dance on the vulcan

© 2019 Tofisch & Partner New years eve.The sulphur damp bits in our lungs it is smelling burned. Ghostly doom the blacken pole from a ski lift out of the still steaming rocks. Generally a wonder that there is more snow here at this time than in the alps. The wind blows howling around the bizarre formed not clouded lava. Always are escaping hissing stinky gases. The traces of the last eruption are everywhere visible. With an oppressed feeling we were winning slowly height.

 

 

 

© 2019 Tofisch & Partner The way of the last 1600 meters of altitude difference are going across a fresh lava mass which defy the cold wind and the snow. The way up drags on, but step by step we are coming nearer to the summit. In rhythmic intervals we saw a little graceful cloud slide over the crater crest. The strong wind in direction to the sea is drifting it in our direction. Our breath stagnate the evaporations from the volcano are smelling horrible, pure sulphur, our lungs were pressed together from the acid in the air. Horrible! For fortune is the duration of this scenario only a view seconds until the icy wind provide us with more fresh air than we want to have. Will the volcano Etna offer us an extraordinary firework? Slowly we fear it.

 

© 2019 Tofisch & Partner Through endless snow-capped slopes we are drawing our carves nearby fresh opened little craters up to the Summit. The unrealistic summit panorama between damp, sea view and a lot of sun honour us for the strains. The shadows became longer and are drawing scurrile figures in the snow, fog and damp are drifting from the wind blown around the figures. In the last sun rays we are skiing down. Etna did not show us a fire work, but when on the beach later bang the sect corks we have enormous respect from the incalculable power which is pulsating inside of this majestic looking mountain and just wait to break out.