The Lyskamm strikes me as a titan defying the heavens. This 4,000-metre colossus on the border between Switzerland and Italy is not easily approached. Its north face, a vertiginous cathedral of ice and rock, demands respect and humility from anyone who looks up.

I captured this striking portrait just as everything seemed about to explode around the summit. The sky, charged with a palpable energy, deployed its clouds like armies ready for assault. This cosmic tension transfigured the mountain, enveloping it in a dramatic aura. We can sense the impending discharge, the suspended moment when the elements will unleash themselves against the impassive faces of the Lyskamm.

Heavy, menacing clouds circle the massif like wild beasts circling their prey. They gather, swell and contort under the pressure of high-altitude winds. This celestial fury contrasts with the immovable solidity of the mountain, creating that violent dialogue between the ephemeral and the eternal that so fascinates me.

The sun's rays, intermittently piercing this tormented atmosphere, sculpt the relief. Each serac, each ridge appears in an almost supernatural clarity, before plunging back into menacing shadow. In taking this photograph, I felt the unique sensation of capturing the moment when nature holds its breath before the explosion. A feeling I'd like to share with you in this dramatic work.