A tribute to the nearby mountain; the one behind the house. That of Monte Rosa and its southern slope which overlooks wild over Alagna. A journey written over time. The same one that goes into stories and in the mountains of men; in their homes. The time that lives in traditions, in an ancient Walser costume worn, as well as in the deep cracks of the highest glaciers. A short story in honor of the people who live in the mountains, in the mountains. So that I can continue to do so. Remembering that we are all passing through, but there is something eternal.
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