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.






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