Chamonix, France · Photo Essays

Meet Me in Chamonix

15 photographs

Love, the mover, the motion of the spheres, Sends us forth to wander and behold, Its intricacies, fashioned not for you, but for all. And those, with their ears attuned to its call, Will traverse among new fields to find it.

The valley opens toward Zermatt, clouds snagged on the peaks ahead.

Love, it is the light of the morning, The emblazoned summit at night. It is forever bound to all and they to it. It is fire and shadows, It is the conflagration of the soul.

Between two red trains, a lone figure walks the gravel at the station.

Love is Polaris, our crepuscular guide, All things point towards it, And it to they, And those who deny such orientation, Are the saddest creatures in Eden, For it is they who refuse themselves, The very essence of life.

The red train curves along the mountainside toward the snowy peaks.

Love, the teacher, reveals all paths to those who seek,

The Matterhorn catches the last light between the larches.

One summit burns through the storm clouds as darkness takes the valley. The emblazoned summit at night.

By way of nature, for nature. It is seldom gentle, It is seldom fair, It will break your bones, scratch and sting, It will feel like despair, But this is the road rendered to understanding.

Sunrise breaks behind a lone summit in the French Alps, the light arriving long before the color.

Love, the healer, cares not where you've been, Its concerns are only that you've arrived, So rest your weary eyes, Remember your journey, Rejoice that despite all, Even if you've lost so much, You still have loved. And that has transported you to new horizons.

Sheep graze the last green slope while the valley falls away in blue.

Go forth. Love awaits those who wander.

The Matterhorn stands over the rooftops of Zermatt as evening settles on the town.

Mont Blanc rises white above the green forested slopes.

The trail bends high above the Chamonix valley, the glaciers of the Mont Blanc massif spilling down across the way.

A trail winds through the high meadows toward the Matterhorn.

A gravel road runs straight toward the peaks, snow still clinging to the summits.

Sunlight breaks over the ridges as the peaks rise out of the clouds.

A daisy leans out over the drop, the sun pouring down the mountainside behind it.