In the heart of the Valais Alps, the Strahlhorn unfurls its harmonious lines. Standing at 4,190 metres above sea level, it stands between the valleys of Zermatt and Saas-Fee, a discreet guardian in the heart of a kingdom of ice. From the ridge that leads to its summit, the view opens out onto one of the most beautiful horizons in the Alps: the Monte Rosa massif. The Lyskamm and Castor can be seen standing like immovable giants on the border between Switzerland and Italy.

On this winter's day, the Strahlhorn is revealed in all its purity. Its cornice stretches like a thread suspended above the void, sculpted by the winds and hemmed in with light. Underfoot, the glacier conceals deep crevasses, reminding us that even the so-called "easy" summits require caution and humility. Shadows glide across the slopes, revealing the relief of its flanks.

Observe the beauty of the Mont-Rose massif in the background. Last spring, I skied the Castor crests. Then, in the summer of 2023, as I climbed the Lyskamm, I rediscovered the Mont-Rose massif in a whole new light. It seemed colossal, but fragile at the same time. Monte Rosa undergoes a metamorphosis every year. Its glaciers melt, its rock crumbles. Ridges thin, crevasses open. The immutability we think we see is just an illusion. Perhaps that's why I like photographing mountains so much: to freeze in memory moments of what, up there, is endlessly transforming.