Travel memories: Dolomites, the limestone cathedrals
When it comes to spectacular mountain landscapes, the Dolomites in the northeastern part of Italy, are probably one of the most striking I have been given the chance to wander in. These pre-Alps limestone reeds are not particularly high, but they are usually nearly perfectly vertical. This give to the Dolomites a unique look, almost human-made, architectural.
When you first look at the dolomites, you first start seeing spires, cathedrals, fortresses. After a second or two, however, you quickly realise that no human would have nearly come close to building anything like this. I suppose this primal urge to try to anthropomorphise everything is intrinsic to human beings...
Speaking of scale...
One thing that I love in the mountains is that everything around you, starting with the weather, can drastically change in a matter of minutes. There are feelings that are difficult to render fully, such as the fresh and raw wind blowing into your face, putting you off balance for a second and hereby, here again, giving you a sense to the perspective, reminding how ephemeral your presence is.
On this trip, I was particularly lucky with the light. It was incredible, constantly changing, putting into perspective the different layers of the landscape, giving it a fugacious and labile character, which enables a human being to get a better sense of the depth and height of what surrounds her/him. In a perfectly sunny day, the white light erases nuances and flattens topography (and you struggle during your hike because of the intense heat...).
