Facing the bernese alps, the eye meets a wall of rock and ice. In the foreground, the imperious Schreckhorn rises to an altitude of 4,078 metres. Behind it, the Lauteraarhorn unfurls its splendid ridge, slicing through the sky like a silver blade. After three days of snow and strong winds, the storm finally subsides. At the summit, the snow still rises in flurries, carried away by the residual gusts.

The panorama from the Berne region is breathtaking. The ridge linking the Nässihorn to the Lauteraarhorn is clearly visible. Wild and austere, it seems to be fighting a battle against the elements. Contrasts are powerful: shadows hollow out the steep flanks, while areas hit by light reveal the brilliant whiteness of freshly fallen snow.

Photographing such a moment doesn't happen by chance. It takes days, sometimes weeks, of waiting and anticipation. Knowing where to stand, gauging the strength of the wind, guessing whether the snow will be heavy enough to transform the mountain. More than once, the effort is in vain: the clouds persist, the light slips away, and the peaks remain hidden. But perseverance is always rewarded in the end.

That day, the curtain rose. The Schreckhorn and Lauteraarhorn were revealed in all their splendour in the midst of a clearing. Between light and shadow, the mountain revealed a new face, ephemeral and overwhelming. This black-and-white photograph bears witness to a rare moment, when nature, in all its strength and fragility, reminds us of the grandeur of the world above.