From Grindelwald , the gaze collides with the Schreckhorn as one confronts a fortress. Its name suits it well: “The tooth that impresses.” High, rugged, sharp—it cannot be tamed. In this photograph captured the day after a snowfall, the Schreckhorn reveals its wild nature. Sharp lines, a freshly spread mantle, and a verticality that seems to want to pierce the sky. The snow clings to the ridges, emphasizing the complexity of its flanks. It traces a natural, almost architectural design.

I took this black and white photograph when the winds were picking up again, tearing swirls of powder snow from the upper cornices. These swirls of snow, suspended in the air, bring movement to the image. They soften without erasing. The Schreckhorn remains what it is: a wild monolith, a summit that we contemplate without the illusion of dominating it. The composition, deliberately tight, refocuses attention on the very essence of this mountain. No distraction, no decor — just the surge of stone and ice.

I sought to capture this vertical energy. A raw mountain, without artifice, but inhabited by a breath. That of the wind, the cold and the mystery that it continues to carry to the heart of bernese alps .