Stop staring

I started staring at the Niesen in 2009, before our apartment was even built, looking across from the building site in anticipation of the vistas to come. 

Then, for eleven years, I stared at the Niesen from our terrace -  morning, noon and evening; spring, summer, autumn and winter; sun, rain and snow - often paralysed by the beauty. 

Under the spell of the Niesen I watched my daughter grow, from a nine year old girl playing pretend with our neighbour's children, through the adolescent school years, to now an adult university graduate. The memories of place and people will remain entwined.

But now I no longer stare at the Niesen. The apartment is empty of our things. The trucks were loaded, to drive off to new vistas. I turned around for one last look.