The winds sweep across the heights and the Castor blazes in their fury. At 4,223 meters above sea level, this summit of the Swiss Alps rises up, fierce and Powerful. He's Pollux's twin brother. But in this black-and-white photograph, I've decided to pay homage solely to the Castor.

That morning, the winter wind blew without restraint. The summit disappeared for moments in a swirl of snow, then reappeared, even brighter. The glacier, whipped by the wind, projected luminous wisps that rose into the cold air like ephemeral flames. Shadows and light vied with each other, sculpting a moving, fragile picture.

In creating this vertical portrait of Le Castor, I wanted to capture the intensity of that moment. The mountain was no longer motionless, frozen in its majesty; it vibrated under the assault of the wind. Its slopes were covered in shifting shadows, its edges glistened with sudden flashes of light, and in this tension the magic of the peaks was revealed.

To photograph the Castor is to freeze the ephemeral. It's capturing that moment when the elusive mountain reminds us that it belongs to no one. It gives itself and then withdraws, leaving behind a trail of raw, untamed beauty.