Mountains, in my opinion, are at their best in late June / July, when their meadows are shining with blossoming flowers, woods are echoing with birds' songs, cattle and sheep are enjoying again high altitude pastures — in a word, life is at the very top of its cycle, the exact opposite of the long winter sleep. But the high-altitude summer splendour lasts for just a few weeks, as at the end of July large brown patches are already gaining space at the expense of the green meadows. Those places are still very pleasant throughout August and September, but you are left with the impression that the peak of the show is over; and nothing new is happening.

At the middle of September high pastures are already almost entirely yellow/brown, while most of trees are still predominantly green. But you feel that something is going to change, since the first yellow leaves are appearing, as well as the first yellow larch branches.

Birds are still populating the woods, but they are mostly silent. In the higher meadows, marmots are no more playful, too concentrated in eating and accumulating the last portions of grease before going into hibernation. It's a sort of suspended world, waiting for something to happen.

Sheep are starting the downward transhumance, moving to middle altitudes where there's some green grass still, enough for the short intermediate stops in the journey towards the valley bottom.

Storms are quite common in the Alps throughout the whole summer, but they are usually quick and without consequences. Now they have a different personality, an anticipation of what will come in the very next weeks, bringing the first snow also at medium altitude.