Above the peaks, the day rests in quiet clarity. The sky stretches endlessly, a deep blue that breathes vastness. From the Big Thumb, the hiker looks down into the Illertal valley, where the valleys open up like the pages of an old book - written in green, light and distance. The cross on the summit, simple and upright, keeps watch over time, anchored in stone and sky at the same time.
Below it, the shadows of the mountains glide gently over meadows and forests. The Grünten stands as a sentinel on the horizon, firmly interwoven with the landscape, as if to preserve the secret of the Allgäu. The wind caresses the grass as it takes root on the rocks - a gentle song of permanence and transience.
Up here, where the breath of the earth mingles with that of the sky, the measure of things is lost. Everything becomes simple: rock, light, space. And in this simplicity is found the great - the unspoken word of the mountains, which sounds louder in silence than any echo.
                                
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