Tag Archives: Jungfrau Aletsch

And this is heaven?

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Aletsch Glacier

River of ice? Sea of ice?

Often I intuitively feel an inspirational link in my plants, gardens and landscape photos. That makes them easy to share.

But this day, this photo left me wordless, speechless, spellbound.

Then finally came some words. Geography, topography. I was standing at 4,000 meters above sea level, looking down upon 3,000 meters above sea level. Those are the Swiss Alps.

I thought of the Himalayas and Mt Everest at 7,000 and 8,000 meters above sea level. Twice as high as I was on the day.

This is the Aletsch Glacier and its tributaries in the Berner Oberland. They live just off the back side of the famous Jungfrau mountain, above Interlaken.

Measured in human terms, the scale is incomprehensible. Even with the alarmists’ passionate flogging of the ‘end of the world’ ‘global warming’, which over millennia comes and goes like the seasons of each year, this living glacial landscape measures 14 km in length.

Still leaves me speechless. Its beauty takes my breath away. So I share this photo.

Sneaking In

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It happened last night.

Woke up this morning and winter had snuck in. Winter! And I had not yet even finished the requisite autumnal post.

Snow down to 3,000 meters. Above image shows in the foreground two valleys at 600 meters. The valleys drain the north side of the Jungfrau Massif, part of the Berner Oberland in the Swiss Alps. If you magnify, you can see Jungfrau, Monch and Eiger in the left center background.

The Right Altitude

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May Snow

A week ago I posted Wisteria photo taken the same day, so enamoured I was of its floriferous and fragrant presence. I called it a mature spring dream.

Today, just one week later I had the opportunity to observe a unique scientific reality—that is—higher elevations have cooler temperatures. And that dramatically affects the visual coming of spring.

I live in essentially the same easting and northing for the Wisteria photo and these weather photos below. All have been taken within a 5 mile by 5 mile square on a map. I can observe the weather at 500 meters above sea level—the Wisteria–no snow fall at all–only a cold spring rain.

And I can observe the weather at 1,500 meters above sea level which I did today. My easy access to these very different elevations is possible due to the well developed cog-wheel train system in operation year round in all weather conditions.

Today, at 1,500 meters and higher, I saw no crocus, no dandelion, no green. But I did have the joyous fun of a snowfall in mid Spring—large flakes in blizzard-like conditions up to 12” deep and sticking to all coniferous and deciduous trees and shrubs.

Good fun.

800 meters above sea level–at this elevation there was no snowfall but you can see the dynamic cloud activity–up the faces of the cliffs–along the  valley floor–and the entire valley is covered and darkened by the low overcast.

 

1,500 meters above sea level–at this elevation I have entered the low overcast layer that caused the reduced light at 800 meters. Inside the overcast layer was snowing.

 

2,300 meters above sea level–at this level I have risen above the first overcast snowing and am now in snowfall from a higher overcast. This is where 12″ of snow had already fallen and the snow was still falling. A cog-wheel train at left.

 

Spring Snow Showers

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Northern range of the Swiss Alps.

Last third of April–lots of spring flowers–violets going by–winter clothes put away–boom–spring snow showers.

 

Violas, violet, over oak.

 

Snow showers–normal April the locals say.

 

Snow flakes–dancing and jolly as if they are enjoying the joke.

 

Broderies

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The spring wild flowers in homeowners’ lawns speak Easter to my memories.

Between the mountain air and those flowering plants is an aura that feeds and frees my creative synapses. Absolutely amazing.

Some people might call it a ‘natural high’ but no. Whatever it is, it inspires, it energizes and encourages the freedom that is the base of creative thoughts, words and deeds.

The airs are important. On the highest and northernmost massif of the Swiss Alps, the airs flow down, mingled with the airs of the plants and earth, otherwise undisturbed, from 4,000 meters (above sea level) over the surfaces of broad lakes into and among the gardens of the villages at 600 meters.

Springtime rains mix air and earth…life begins to stir.

This diverse mix of wild flowers bloom in that narrow window, just after the grasses green with life but before the grasses spurt with growth.

Veritable glens, even forests of delicate spring flowers invite walks of discovery.

And on the edge of civilisation where village garden meets mountain landscape…

Flowers, forest, animals, children, parents, play, nurture, gardens, landscape…

How can the beauty of spring become black and white and retain its ethereality?

The same but different. We have just to live it.

People and Plants Caption?

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Caption?

This is a bit of a change. But most of my posts are about real life, so I guess this fits in.

All I see in this photo is an attempt at ‘cross-cultural integration’. Is that sad or is that just a practical fact of life?

Do any of you have experience with signs like this?

If so, in public or in your home?

Do any of you wonder why this sign was put up?

Do any of you wonder what happens if this sign isn’t put up?

Caption?

Oh heck, forget it. I’ve been living in foreign countries too long. I’ve forgotten what is culturally right or culturally wrong.

Happy holidays to all. I’m going out for a walk, maybe an adventure.

An adventure in the making…going my way?

Stuck on a metaphor

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Is this a living landscape where the sun, the earth and moisture combine in a joyous dance? Or am I reading too much into it? I see a dance hall.

 

Is this the invitation to dance? I think the moisture emerging from the earth in that cloud is wanting to dance in the sun. This cloud wants its dance card signed.

Dancing clouds—I’m stuck on that metaphor.

I’ve lived on many continents, in many climates but only in this region have I felt—joyous, dancing clouds. Only here have I seen the clouds emerge from the earth.

Yesterday I watched clouds emerge from the earth, become dancing players in the sky and then dissolve before my eyes. Over and over. Great pleasure indeed I had.

For dedicated cloud watchers, I have, in this region, learned to distinguish between watching the dance and participating in the dance. Yesterday I watched.

Here are some of the players arriving for the dance–look carefully–each has its own style:

I’m stuck in that metaphor; and I don’t mind. It is a simple pleasure.