Field note of the day

In the mountains every step rings on rock, and the air grows thin and clear.

Today I come across a Firnweb — average · scaled.

Drifters never quite touch the ground. Where one has hovered for long, the grass stays unbent even so.

And with a little luck you find an egg where you harvest. Brooded at your tent, a companion hatches from it — it grows as you feed it, and carries a piece of this landscape inside it forever.

If you want to meet one yourself: Mountains, Glacier. It cannot be caught — only won over.

— from the Wanderer’s notes

More about this species in the encyclopedia