Day breaks over Zermatt. The sky is still thick with clouds. Suddenly, the mist breaks, and from this rift emerges the obvious: the appearance of the Rimpfischhorn. A mountain in the Valais Alps, sovereign of the Täschalp valley, it pierces the clouds like a sword. A streak of light emerges from the darkness.

This black-and-white photograph highlights the ridge of the Rimpfischhorn. The mist separates it, isolates it, crowns it. Clouds glide in layers, leading the eye to the still-hidden summit. Between two veils, we can make out the snow clinging to the rock. Everything becomes a path: a taut diagonal, pure momentum, the promise of the summit. I watch for those rare seconds when the wind polishes the lines, when the light, soft and silvery, sculpts the mountain.

The Rimpfischhorn stands out in the storm. Its silhouette, both gentle and powerful, has fascinated me since our first meeting. In this world of rock and clouds, man has no place; nature dictates the rhythm. So I stand humbly, listening to the wind and the mountain. When the moment presents itself, I finally take out my camera. And I know I can only relive this magical scene through this image.

I love the play of light, the lines drawn by the clouds. Each time I look at this work, I discover the mountain in a different way: sometimes our gaze follows the ridge, sometimes a breath of wind touches our senses.