Deep in the Val d'Hérens, rises a fierce, secret and proud mountain: La Singla. Little known to the general public, it nonetheless reigns over this remote side of the Valais, like a forgotten guardian. That morning, while the sea of clouds still enveloped the valleys in its cotton mantle, she appeared. The spectacle was brief, but overwhelming. Amid the gusts of wind, Singla slipped out of the darkness. Its sharp crest split the mists, while the light of a still timid sun slid down its granite flanks. It didn't appear in a calm - but in a movement, a breath, a struggle. A dramatic moment when nature reveals itself not as a setting, but as a living power.

I photographed the Singla from the heights. Up there, time seems to stand still. All you can hear is the wind rushing through the rocks, and your thoughts gradually falling silent. Faced with a mountain like this, you don't talk. You listen.

What touches me so much about her is the way she combines ruggedness with elegance. It's not the tallest, nor the most famous, but its tapering silhouette, rising out of the clouds like this, has a rare nobility. It evokes a ship aground on the edge of the sky, a bow battered by the winds, untouched, indomitable.

This work is a tribute to those mountains that cannot be reached without effort - neither physically, nor inwardly. For Singla, to reveal itself, requires patience, humility and surrender.

Through this portrait, I invite you to discover a more intimate side of the Alps. Where the unknown becomes majestic, where the forgotten takes on the light. La Singla is not a fixed monument: it's an apparition. Fleeting. Poignant. Unforgettable.