The mountain, like the sea, has the effect of bringing order and priority to things in the happening of the immediate.
Among the peaks, in solitude, it no longer matters at what altitude you are, 1700, 1800, 2000, 3000, you are always alone with your equipment, forces, thoughts, decisions.
The cliff, the path that gets lost among the rocks, the insidious ice, they are there, they have always been there. But it is we men who decide to measure ourselves, not against them but, through them, with ourselves.
The immediacy between human thought and action and the reaction of the surrounding world, devoid of judgement, is the sacred conjunction between the pure and the divine soul. The proximity to the precipice brings the wayfarer of the peaks closer to the standard-bearer of justice beyond good and evil.
What is right to do one feels within, challenging oneself is fine, challenging God or Nature can take one over the edge. The just man, the wayfarer of the peaks, knows where that limit lies.
Words are not enough, images would not be enough: both are not needed.
What lies beyond can only be touched by the experience of the Spirit.