The Diablerets Massif from above Col de la Croix.
Switzerland is, by any measure, a beautiful place. With an abundance of snow-capped peaks, verdant alpine meadows, crystal clear lakes and interesting ancient buildings, it captivates one's mind. These wonders are not hard to find: a country roughly the size of West Virginia, Switzerland is home to more than 5000 peaks of over 2000 meters. The beauty is literally everywhere.

If I tried to list the most beautiful places I've ever been, nearly all of them would be here and in the past year. Hawaii would make an appearance, as would the Monterrey Bay. Of course there are many fantastic places that I've never been: Arches National Park, Scandinavia's fjords, the plains of Africa. But if limited to places I've actually visited, the most beautiful places in the world are all within 100 miles of where we live.

The best way to experience nature is, of course, to get out among it. Through the car (or train) window is great but it is so much better up close and personal. Those who know me well know that I was never much of an outdoorsman in the US. I now know that that says more about the places I've lived than it does about me. I used to enjoy heading to a nice park (Brandywine Creek State Park in Wilmington, DE, where I grew up) or to the closest thing to hills in our vicinity (the Hocking Hills in Ohio, about an hour from where we spent 13 years before moving here) but I now live for hiking up mountains or through alpine valleys. I've walked more in the last few months than in the last 10 years (it's a guess -- don't hold me to it).


Gratuitous cow photo taken during a hike last week.
Every hike holds some surprise that adds to the experience. On most excursions, Sergio and Lars are my hiking partners. Last week, the three of us were going from Les Diablerets to Villars, a 16km trek over Col de la Croix with the spectacular 3000m Diablerets Massif as backdrop. While walking through a forested section of the trail, Sergio stopped and told us to listen. The sound we heard was remarkable, at least to me.

Everyone is familiar with cuckoo clocks -- they're the temporal equivalent of dinner and a show. I may be the last sentient being on the planet to learn this but cuckoos are real birds. The sound that Sergio pointed out to us last week was the call of a male cuckoo. It sounded exactly like every cuckoo clock you've ever heard and the experience was both hilarious and fascinating. A couple of days later, while on a solo hike, I heard two more cuckoos. I thought them quite charming until I read a little about them -- they are avian sociopaths. (Read the wikipedia page for "common cuckoo.") Evil birds aside, every hike is an opportunity to learn: about nature, about myself, and because Lars is a nuclear physicist, about the universe. Not a bad way to spend a day.