But clearer vision looks up and sees God in His alpine throne. Above the mists the mountains spin and weave His spell in majesty unmatched by man and quite without his help. In the Compelling Presence, hard work results in harmony and this year's one-time tourist returns next year a worshiper. The autumn sun, a late riser in Lauterbrunnen, reluctantly extends his feet from under the morning featherbed of fog and out onto the chilled floor of the valley. Higher up in patch worked meadows the warming sun turns fog to alpine bells and buttercups.
Passengers disembark to wonder at the world.
Stout sticks and sturdy shoes take to trails, drawn to the mountains'outstretched arms as magically as metal to a magnet. Thoughts, like their owners, dwarf beneath the scene and former slights and office slander dissolve like smoke from nearby wood-fired chimneys. Thus, refreshed by God in this pageantic panorama, the lightened soul weighs less on weary legs. The alpine postbus hourly weaves and winds up the valley warning the unweary with asthmatic airhorn. Framed by bristled pine and golden larch, the white tooth of the Dent Blanche rises brilliantly against blue sky beckoning all to La Sage and La Forclaz.