lake geneva’s graceful shore
disappears behind us as
stark dramatic alpine slopes
loom ahead.
the train rumbles past
groups of hikers
cable cars swaying above valleys
paragliders floating among rocky peaks.
enroute to a solitary hotel
in the shadow of the matterhorn
in zermatt we climb aboard
a small red cogwheel train
rattling up a barren incline.
no roads nor other means
to reach this remote spot,
a small modern hotel that huddles
next to an astronomical observatory
from the nineteenth century.
my son, i hope,
will love this place.
since childhood he has dreamt
of stars and planets and space.
high school intern at nasa
college degree in astronomy and physics
now a high school physics teacher.
after a training program
in particle physics
at world-class cern* in geneva
i have joined him
for a brief journey
into the heart of the alps.
emerging from the cog train
into the sunlight
we stand to crane our necks
at the old dark wood structure
with its shining twin telescope domes.
enthralled at this unfamiliar world
wordlessly we savor the closeness
of craggy snow-covered mountains,
pure air
deep enormous silence.
no other signs of habitation here
just soaring peaks at 10,171 feet
unlike anywhere we have ever been
unlike anything we have ever seen.
we trudge the steep footpath to the hotel
a young concierge shows us to our room
reminding us to rest
and drink water to guard
against the effects of altitude.
my son throws open the huge window
we lean out to exclaim in amazement
at huge eagles and vultures
with outstretched wings
swooping by us inches away
drafting on air currents from the ravine below
sharp pinnacles on every side.
the light begins to fade
as the last cog train of the day
carries a gaggle of noisy day-trippers
down the mountain
leaving us and a few other travelers
in silence and seclusion.
we drift outside to drink in
the brilliant sunset colors
dancing behind the peaks.
curious, we join a group of guests
peering over the terrace wall
at a herd of ibex
on a narrow precipice ten feet below.
the ibex jostle for a turn at a salt lick
vying for our attention
butting heads with their long curved horns
coyly pretending to shove
each other off the tiny ledge.
awake at daybreak
we hastily grab random clothes
stumble to the upper viewing terrace
hoping to capture the sunrise.
high clouds at night
dashed our hopes of stargazing
but the dawn sky
is miraculously blue and cloudless.
we sit frozen, perched on rocky benches
mesmerized by the
incredible stillness
the breathtaking beauty
of the jagged peaks
as they glow from pink and orange to gold.
since he was a toddler
i have traveled with my son
to many beautiful places
but none as magnificent as this.
sharing our travels has always been
a joyful privilege for me
strengthening our close relationship
for more years than i dared hope.
but at age twenty-eight
a new phase of his life begins:
proposing marriage
to his girlfriend
planning their life together.
my happiness for him and their future
is bittersweet, tinged with sadness
knowing that this era of travels
with just the two of us
is ending.
my secret hope is
that our adventures
have meant as much to him
as they have to me.
mid-morning, reluctantly, too soon,
we board the cog train again
descending to catch another train
past the ancient terraced vineyards at lavaux
toward the city of lausanne.
lake geneva shimmers into view
as we nestle close to one another
his head on my shoulder
pensive, silent
both of us hoping to make the spell
last a few moments longer.
*European Center for Nuclear Research
Judith Teich’s personal essays have appeared in the Christian Science Monitor, Moment Magazine, The Ravens Perch, the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA), the Washington Post Travel Section, among others. A clinical social worker and mental health services researcher, she lived and worked in Israel for 4 years in her mid-20s, and helped to establish the first community mental health center in Israel, in Jaffa. Upon her return to the U.S. in 1974, she worked in several major teaching hospitals, the National Academy of Sciences, and subsequently for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services for 27 years. She is the author/co-author of 40+ peer-reviewed research publications. After retiring from the federal government in 2018, she works as a freelance writer and researcher, and serves as a volunteer for the Montgomery County Literacy Council and the National Park Service.
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