As daylight fades, the Matterhorn lights up for the last time. The summer sun caresses its north face, depositing a golden, almost unreal light on the rock. The summit becomes fire, the mountain gently flames under the last rays. In this light, every detail comes to life. The Hörnli ridge, the emblematic line I've had the pleasure of treading, is clearly visible. It cuts the mountain in two like a proud scar, full of history and promise.

That evening, all was calm. The wind had died down, the sky was Light, and the light glided slowly down the north face, highlighting veins of rock and tongues of snow. It's a rare light, one that only lasts for a moment and that you have to wait for. I stood there, motionless, attentive. Then I immortalized the Matterhorn in its most beautiful light.

The Matterhorn is not just a mountain. It's a symbol, a presence. Every time I photograph it, I feel the same respect, the same fascination. But in this scene, it seemed even more alive. As if it were responding to the light. I wanted to freeze that moment when the day comes to an end and the mountain becomes light. A simple photograph, but inhabited by the soul of the most beautiful mountain in the Alps.