This is an ode to the daydreamers and the romantics, the lost souls searching for a message in the clouds to appear. Starting from the cog railway itself, the Schynige Platte is a fantasy. Belching a trail of black smoke, the vintage craft harkens back to a time where fanciful flourishes were imbued into the most minor details. Let your heart soar, trip and tumble along with the unpredictable rise and fall of the landscape as the train chugs on, relentless. Far in the distance, you might be able to make out a single story wood plank affair. The huts of Oberberg outlined seem to promise of warm conversations with complete strangers, communicated over broken sentences and emphatic silences filled in by what words cannot convey. Hardy tufts of wildflower and bushels of dangling floral trumpets will have you pausing every few metres to draw in the reedy tones colouring the air as they did the yellow-green of the uneven, boulder strewn plains. 650 species, each with blooms of a different shade that will have you running out of names for colours sooner than you would names for the flora, bring cheer to the mountainside within the peak’s alpine gardens. Running up to the lookout points dotted throughout one’s climb to the tip, shout out to the wind that will carry away your pleas and wishes high above. Caught by the patient ears of the stable rock, these calls become woven into the stone, internalized and sunken into the earth’s core. It is here too that 10 steps become a 100 as you walk the considerably short hike to the highest outposts to witness the triple peaks of Eiger, Monch and Jungfrau standing with regal stature against the elements. With the winds howling around you and the rock giants looking on in stony silence, you might just find that hidden note between the whistles and screeches ringing in your ears.