December 27th, 4 pm – I have taken my position on Reinhold’s rooftop. You are sitting on history condensed, neatly curved into the scenery by Zaha Hadid; a gesture of persistence and and also assimilation.  You are looking over the Peitlerkofel Range. A symphony of colours and light. A movement of yellow, played in time with gusts of wind, fades to a strong orange. A fabric of blood-red sacrifice at the finale. Blue persists in front of black.

“Kronplatz – Crownplace” is the name of this planar hill and it is well-named. The sun vanishes swiftly. Now it is clearing off, an early moon and the first stars are shining on the sparse snow. You can be on your own between the last descents of the cable cars and the preparing of the slopes. 1300 m down below Bruneck is glittering; a jewel living in the velvet valley. A ski-run for eternity.