A quiet autumn morning spreads out over the Eissee lake in the Oytal valley, as if time were pausing for a breath. The golden slopes of the Allgäu Alps lean gently towards the water, which lies clear and calm like a polished piece of sky. Above it rises the Großer Wilder, 2,379 metres high, with its striking peaks and silvery grey rock - a sentinel that has been reading the wind and clouds for thousands of years. Behind it, the Hochvogel and Rosszahn groups stretch along, rugged and sublime at the same time, as if they were the furrowed thoughts of the earth itself.
The air carries the scent of cold stone and late grass, and every step sounds like a silent commitment to stillness. The world is reflected in the lake: the broad sky with its delicate streaks of cloud, the autumn-coloured flanks of the mountains, their calm shadows. Everything seems double, and yet as fragile as a fleeting dream.
Up here, far from the noise of the valleys, the Allgäu is a patient storyteller. It speaks of hiking and waiting, of light that covers the rock and of the connection between man and landscape. And while the reflection in the water trembles unnoticed, this moment remains - clear, wide and full of quiet poetry.
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