The storm has passed. The wind has died down. And in the silence, the Dent Blanche rises. Pure, vertical, perfectly redrawn by the fresh snow. Seen from the south, on the Zermatt side, it offers a rare sight, bathed in clear light and profound calm.

The normal route, clearly visible in this photograph, follows the tapering ridge to the summit. It's a logical, elegant, almost geometric line. It slices the mountain in two, like a seam in the rock. And today, after the violence of the previous days, it seems frozen in a cloak of light. The relief appears sharp, as if sculpted. The mountain still breathes the storm, but it has regained its calm. This contrast moves me: between the harshness of the climate and the softness of the pattern it leaves behind.

The Dent Blanche is a summit that doesn't cheat. It commands respect. Rising to an altitude of 4,358 metres, it reigns between the valleys of Hérens, Anniviers and Zermatt. Hardly accessible, rarely docile, it's one of those mountains you have to earn. But when it's offered up like this, in this state of grace, it becomes almost familiar. Like a queen who has removed her crown to allow herself to be approached.

This photograph is the fruit of a long wait. A long look at the maps, the skies and the winds. And a decision: to go, in spite of everything. Because I love photographing the mountains for you just after the storm. In my opinion, that's when the summits reveal their most beautiful side.