The valley sometimes smelt sweet, with the wind carrying scents of flowers low in the ground. Blue, white, and yellow covered some of the ground with the vitality only spring knows. Walking among the great mountains, austere, immovable, one is almost non-existent. Such is the bliss of the absence of oneself. The howls of the wind were almost alive, carrying timeless waves of music through this path carved out by man. Rarely anyone was around, and the joy of silence danced on every leaf, every blade of grass, every moving cloud. The clouds, what tremendous depth. They carried a great deal with them, protruding into heavy grey, and one almost suspected that the rain might be coming soon. In the distance, bright sunlight and voluminous clouds throw the blue sky into sharp relief. It felt like the door to infinite wonders had been opened just there.