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.