Walking in the Alps

I have to really, really bundle up whenever I venture to go out of the house, be it for a walk or into town. With temperatures averaging in the 20s to 30s (that would be Fahrenheit) up here in the Alps, it wouldn’t take but a few minutes for a person to freeze over. Or, in my case, coming for Florida, a few seconds.

Just kidding.

I actually have a bad habit of not dressing warmly enough, forgetting my gloves or hat. I’ve already been told, “Jennifer, this isn’t Florida,” causing me to laugh and feel a little sheepish. Don’t know why I underestimate to cold…


I’ve been wearing my wonderful snow-boots which really keep my feet extra warm, but I’m considering buying another pair of shoes – the problem is, is everything is so expensive here in Switzerland.


My walk in the Alps was breathtaking. I got up early (though not too early – it can be cold in the early morning) and left the house right after 10am. The sky was gray, but the sun was still trying to poke its face through the clouds so there was thankfully a bit of sunlight, which made the morning ever more beautiful. I made my way from the driveway, crossing the street which wound through a small bit of houses. Making another turn, I began my ascend towards the hills where the road opened up. I could see my breath before me, which came harder as I was walking uphill.

When I got to be a good distance from the neighborhood, I turned around to take in the view. It was enchanting. How can I put into words how beautiful the Alps are, especially when they are covered with snow? It steals my breath away. No matter how many pictures I take, they never seem to do the mountains justice.


I kept walking and soon entered the forest. It was quiet and still, save for the crunching of the snow beneath my feet. The air seemed to have a soft, gentle hum to it, due to perhaps, the ever slight breath of the wind as it lingered, stirring the trees. The coolness on my face.








For a little while, perhaps a half hour into the walk, there was an opening of trees. Such a view to behold I’d never seen. I couldn’t help myself and I stood just staring at the tall snow-capped mountains, which stood erect and high. Grand and majestic. And I felt myself falling in love all over again. Ah, Switzerland…. how beautiful you are. How truly beautiful.


I resumed my walk through the forest until I came to another clearing where endless snow lay before me, and I half-walked half-ran down the hill, my boots sinking into the snow. I did this all the way until I reached the bottom of the hill, laughing some in spite of myself.


I paused and caught my breath and turned around to look about me, to look back at the hills. And then I realized this was the place. The place where I had made a vow. A promise. Nearly three years ago when I was on my first visit to Switzerland, I had, near the end of that trip, gone on a walk. The day had been warm and sunny. I hadn’t needed a jacket. I had taken another path and met the hills looking up towards them, rather than coming down. I remember it like yesterday. Wide open space of green with dandelions swaying in the breeze. The hills, tall and green. The sky, blue. Overcome with the beauty of it all, I took off running…running, laughing, my arms outstretched… I felt free.

Then, dropping to the ground, I kissed it. As I lifted my head to look towards the hills again, I made a promise to her. To Switzerland. That I would be back. This wouldn’t be good-bye. I would come again. To this place. And then I humbly prayed a quiet prayer, begging God to let me fulfill that desire.

As I’ve already stated before. My paradise isn’t a white, sandy beach, with a ukulele in my hand, as I laze around underneath a palm tree. It is the mountains. The rolling hills and valleys that hold tiny villages scattered about. A place where I can count the hours that pass due to the church bell keeping time. Where snow comes in the wintertime, and dandelions dance in the summer. Something about Switzerland and Germany draw me to them. To the culture. To the language. To everything.

And I fall in love all over again โค

Here’s a little vlog of the journey, too ๐Ÿ™‚


Tschau for now โค

Posted by

An artistic musician who enjoys writing about her travels while capturing magical moments in life with her camera. She also likes to eat ketchup with everything.

2 thoughts on “Walking in the Alps

    1. Hey Bob!
      I’m so glad you got the postcards… I’ve not been such a good blogger, haha. I admit the vlogging is easier ๐Ÿ˜€ Glad you enjoy it, tho ๐Ÿ˜‰

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