Spencer C. Musson

Summary

Spencer C. Musson The Engadine (1924)

A quarter of an hour above Fuorn on the road to the Pass, by the second bridge, which crosses a gully, a footpath on the left through the forest brings us into the Val del Botsch, abounding in chamois, and ascends steeply to the Fuorcletta, a low saddle between towering dolomite peaks. Looking back as we ascend is an ever-widening prospect of serried summits and savage gorges. Very striking, too, as we thread the stony trough, is the contrast between the stark desolation around and the soft rich hues of the Lower Engadine, with a crowded host of peaks rising behind and about them.
Source: Gutenberg

Spencer C. Musson The Engadine (1924)

Sometimes his path will lead him to a radiant sanctuary where Nature seems taking her winter rest in undisturbed repose; no breath of wind breaks the stillness, nor note of bird, nor human footfall; the earth as he ascends is transfigured with new and strange magnificence, the heaven deepens to a diviner blue and the shadows to {61} more mystic purple, the peaks close round and rise cathedral-like on every side: a cathedral vast and soaring, vaulted with unfathomable sky, piled and pinnacled, sculptured and wrought, beyond any architect's imagining, and clothed with light as with a garment.
Source: Gutenberg

Spencer C. Musson The Engadine (1924)

We seem to pass into a new country when, leaving the broad upper valley, lying wide-stretched to the sky, where only human supervision prevents the Inn spreading out into lakes and marshes, we go down into the deep trough bordered by picturesque peaks and ridges, where the river that has so long been the companion of the road flows far below it between steep walls of rock. And not only does the scenery change, but the climate, the flora, the very dialect of the people and their character in history is different.
Source: Gutenberg

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