For the first time in some weeks, the snow is falling thick and building up on the ground, even at the level of town. Plenty of snow, but no visibility, so Robyn and I went for a short walk along the river.
A quick decision at a fork in the road sent us on a four hour detour. We climbed higher and higher and the snow grew deeper and deeper. The landscape was transformed by the layer of snow and it was breathtakingly beautiful.
In the few centimetres of fresh snow, we saw the two-toe hoof prints of Ibex. The prints aren't something unusual to come across and we see them often when ski touring. However the animal itself is notoriously timid and wild, avoiding contact with the human settlement and staying high in the mountain.
Through the heavy mist and falling snow i met the old man of the mountain for the first time. An ancient grey male with one of his huge horns broken away at the base. He looked us two sodden walkers up and and down and walked right by, completely unfazed.
It was a beautiful experience, but not the last.
On that short walk up to 1900m, we came across 13 more of the noble beasts.
Two long seasons, at every opportunity spent far away from the crowds and mechanical lift systems, I'd been keeping my eye out for one of the masters of the alpine. I have to remind myself this, so as not to cheapen the experience of seeing 14 in one day.
And now it seems they're keeping an eye out for me.
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