A mountain hare’s footprints patterned it.
Flowers weave a carpet over it.
Wild pansy
St Bruno’s lily
Poet’s narcissus
The Findelbach washes it – watercolour most literal.
And the mountain stirs storms above it.
Hard to believe, all this in three nights. I didn’t even know that I was going to Switzerland until less than 24 hours before I boarded the flight. But life does that sometimes.
This land is art. And it has made an impression on me.
That is what great art is supposed to do.