Beneath the imposing north face of the Lyskamm, the glacier stretches out in solemn silence, shrouded in light and shadow in an infinitely subtle dance. Through the lens, the ice reveals a wild geometry, a landscape shaped by time and the elements. This photograph captures the instant of an icy breath, between eternity and ephemerality, where every crevasse tells a story, every fold of snow whispers a secret.

The lines of the glacier intertwine and lose themselves, like the veins of a giant leaf, a labyrinth of shadows and reflections that seems to stretch into the unknown. The soft, chiselled light caresses the frozen relief, revealing textures that oscillate between the velvety softness of fresh snow and the impassive hardness of raw ice. It glides, hesitates, then sinks into deep hollows, giving way to dense shadows that reinforce the impression of a universe suspended between heaven and earth.

The background, dominated by the north face of Lyskamm, acts like a silent fortress, imposing its omnipresence. This mountain, nicknamed the "man-eater", carries with it a reputation for mystery and tragedy. But here, it becomes a mute guardian, a witness to the secret movements of the glacier at its feet. Its snow-covered walls sometimes merge with the undulations of the glacier, creating a symbiosis between rock and ice, between permanence and movement.

Every detail invites slow, almost meditative contemplation. The repeated lines of the crevasses evoke the scores of a glacial symphony, a silent music played over the centuries by the invisible forces of wind, gravity and cold. These lines, far from perfect, bear witness to the capricious, unpredictable nature of ice, always changing, never standing still.

The depth of this image lies in its ability to transport the observer to another time, a time when nature, immense and untamed, reigns unchallenged. It reminds us that beneath these layers of snow and ice, a constant movement is taking place, slow but inexorable, taking with it the marks of the past to silently create an ever-new landscape.

In this icy scene, man is merely a spectator, a furtive intruder in the face of immensity. Glaciers, though ephemeral on a geological scale, seem immortal here, bearers of an ancient memory that escapes our understanding. Their cold, distant beauty evokes a sense of humility, a reminder that nature, in all its grandeur, far exceeds our human concerns.

The light that illuminates the glacier in this photograph acts almost as a blessing, an acknowledgement of the majesty of this landscape. It simply underlines what the eye alone cannot perceive: the complexity, fragility and strength of a thousand-year-old ecosystem. Every shade of white, every bluish shadow, every texture offers a lesson in harmony and contrast, chaos and order.

"Under the North Face of the Lyskamm" is a work that transcends the simple observation of a glacier. It captures the very essence of mountains, the alchemy between light and ice, permanence and ephemerality, silence and movement. It's a visual tribute to the poetry of the peaks, to the raw, untameable power of nature. An invitation to listen to what the glacier, in its silent language, has to say to us.