In the heart of the bernese alps, the Mönch rises in a mantle of purity. Its freshly snow-covered summit glistens in the daylight, while at its feet, the Sphinx Observatory can be seen. In this colorful work, nature and humanity meet on a thread of ice.

I remember this suspended moment. The storm had just died down. The wind, still brisk, carried the last flakes into the air. Then the light fell on the mountain, soft and sharp at the same time. The Mönch was reborn.

See how tiny the Sphinx Observatory appears against the grandeur of the Mönch. In this contrast, an emotion springs up within us: the encounter between the immensity of the Alps and the smallness of mankind. Here, everything seems silent, frozen, almost sacred. Only the snow still tells of the struggle of the winds, the trace of the cold, the breath of the night.

I love the light that caresses the mountain like a beloved face. I love the verticality of the Mönch, its nobility. I love the timeless dialogue between science and nature, between man and the divine. At an altitude of over 4,000 metres, the world fades away, the heart soars. And in this ballet of light and shadow, I rediscover the very reason for my art: to preserve the beauty of the summits, so that they continue to remind us of what greatness is.