Nature en spring is on its way

The attentive eye of the photographer captures spectacular elements in the colorful expanses of crocuses that herald the arrival of spring.
I dedicate this series of shots to those who love the wide open spaces at altitude. To those who care less about reaching the destination than about savoring the beauty of the journey, intended for the attentive observer who loves and watches with wonder the changing of the seasons and appreciates the distinct character each one offers.

The images presented in these pages were taken in Valle Spluga, a place that grants the experienced hiker endless opportunities to fully experience the mountains and their natural beauty.

One of these opportunities can be found in the valley that opens above the hamlet of Starleggia. We are in the territory of Campodolcino, on the slopes of the Lepontine Alps. In this splendid basin, spring brings a great variety of wildflowers to the pastures and meadows, marked by fresh, luminous colors that lend a lively touch of naturalness to a landscape already grand in itself. In particular, during the spring thaw — typically in April and May at these altitudes — the crocuses (Crocus albiflorus) burst into bloom.

A symbol of passionate love and carefree youth, these flowers have been known since antiquity — so much so that Homer mentions them when describing the marriage bed of Jupiter and Juno. Crocuses are true sentinels of spring, heralding its arrival by tinting the meadows white and purple. If you’re lucky enough to catch the peak bloom, which lasts about fifteen to twenty days, it will feel like stepping into a special world, capable of delighting both the eyes and the soul. I have found myself standing still for long stretches of time, watching the meadow blanketed in a dense carpet of crocuses that stretches as far as the eye can see, up to the Alpe Cusone. A delicate mantle surrounded by patches of snow and a magnificent backdrop of snow-capped mountains dominated by the imposing pyramid of Pizzo Quadro. The vast amphitheater of the valley is rewarding at any time of year, but for me it is perhaps in spring that the landscape appears at its most spectacular — when the surrounding peaks are still covered in snow and ice, in stark contrast with the valley floor and its intense green of freshly sprouted grass, as if it had truly answered spring’s traditional call, announced by the sweeping carpet of crocuses. A flowering pillow, as it were, on which to lie down and linger in contemplation.