A Journey

The easy hill slopes adorned with wine ranks and lavender
in the French countryside have been traded in for the rock faced Swiss mountains
it’s vast and beautiful forest and many mountain tunnels.

Flags adorn peaks and small chalets are only halfway visible trough the tree lines.
Castles balance on rocky edges overlooking the river, dark blue with the last of the melting snow.
In this serenity one would almost expect a purple and white Milka cow grazing on the small grassy plains that cut the forest.

As peaks get more jagged the clouds gather around them.
The forest gets broken up by rock faces. Even the weather seems to take
to the new surroundings and gets bleaker than before.

While first there had been the idea of Milka cows
now it’s a scene fit for a wolf. The mountains mirror it’s teeth sharp ready to strike.
The grey stone and white patches of everlasting snow, the best way to hide his greyish coat beautiful
but dangerous to its core. A perfect example of mother nature’s strength.

But even now at the bottom of these jagged teeth
there you find a small vineyard. It appears that even in mother nature
some things stay the same.



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