Here, the Weisshorn imposes itself in all its majesty, its three ridges spread out like the branches of a sovereign sceptre. To the right, the north ridge soars skyward over the Grand Gendarme. To the left, the normal route stretches out in pure white. The Schaligrat can be seen in the background.

On this particular day, the mountain lay on a bed of clouds, as if in a moving jewel case. The light caressed the face, revealing every detail of ice and rock. Glaciers glistened in the sunlight. And in this immaculate setting, everything seemed frozen in a fragile eternity.

Behind this apparent purity, a darker truth is revealed. The Weisshorn, like so many other giants, is undergoing a metamorphosis. Its seracs fall, its crevasses widen, its glaciers recede. The apparent stability of this realm is only an illusion: the mountain changes, vulnerable to the assaults of time and the upheavals of climate. And perhaps that's why they move me so. Because it reminds us of our own fragility. With this portrait, I wanted to pay homage to this colossus of the Valais Alps, both eternal and ephemeral. I photograph it tirelessly, as if to give it a new memory, another form of eternity. For even if the glaciers disappear and the rock crumbles, the emotion conveyed by these summits will remain forever.