the picturesque beauty of the mountains in winter is extraordinarily attractive: the bright sun at dawn breaks into a thoudand flashes on the snow and the warm glow at sunset gently embraces the hard and rugged rock walls; the immense silence is broken only by the gurgling of crystal clear water and the light breeze brings with it the scent of the woodland. But a plaque among the rocks reminds us of a deceased friend; a prayer rises from the heart, almost like a subdued cry.