After the storm, silence. From Zermatt, the still-laden sky opened up at times, revealing theObergabelhorn like a specter rising from the clouds. At an altitude of 4,063 metres, this jewel in the crown of Zinal 's imperial mountains slowly unveiled itself, draped in fresh snow.

On this day, the mountain was not conquering. It was an apparition, almost intangible, like a mirage above the valleys. The mist clung to its edges, the wind still swept across its flanks, and yet, in this fragility, lay all its grandeur. Each lightning flash transformed the moment into a new vision: sometimes dazzling, sometimes veiled, always overwhelming.

To photograph theObergabelhorn in these conditions is to accept the unexpected. I wasn't looking for the sharpness of a face, or the rigor of a ridge. What I was looking for was a fleeting presence, a suspended moment when the mountain reveals itself like an apparition. It emerges, imposes its triangular silhouette, then disappears again, leaving behind the memory of an elusive spectacle.

TheObergabelhorn is a legendary summit . Its perfect lines attract climbers, its aura captivates the eye. But here, it shows itself in a different light: ghostly, almost celestial. The past storm seemed to have given it a new skin, dressing it in snow and light as if to remind us of its sovereignty.

In this black and white portrait, I wanted to capture this ephemeral dimension. The moment when the mountain becomes a dream, between shadow and light, strength and fragility. A brief but unforgettable apparition. Like a reminder that summits, more than places, are presences. Invisible souls keeping watch, sometimes willing to reveal themselves for an instant.