It was supposed to be a regular day in the mountains. A bit busy maybe, as I was planning to scout two different hikes in the French Chablais. The morning was already amazing: hiking alone in some fresh early‑November snow, playing with shifting clouds, enjoying every chance I got to admire the mysterious landscape. Sometimes I was simply moving forward in the fog, unable to see anything farther than 3–4 meters ahead.
While hiking up in the clouds, it quickly became obvious that I would finish my second hike at night. That was an exhilarating feeling—knowing that I would own the mountain for a moment, that I would have to focus harder to find the trail that had already disappeared under a growing layer of white fluff.
In a matter of a couple of minutes, the thick clouds started to glide toward a lower elevation. I was suddenly above the bad weather, and it took me an instant to realise how clear, and how far, I could see. The neighbouring summits of the whole Chablais first and then something bigger, and always special: the outstanding Mont Blanc, further in the background. An perfectly symmetrical lenticular cloud was topping the big mountain, and when the sun slipped behind the horizon, the colours slowly deepened, adding a final touch to an already beautiful scenery. Some playful chamois stepped into the frame.
I wander the mountains for those unique and faint moments. Shooting them is rewarding, but the best images are the ones kept selfishly in my very own memory.