In the muffled silence all I can hear is the crunch and squeak of snow underfoot. The national park is closed to visitors during the winter, but several Engadine walking trails are close to its borders, meaning anyone can – with luck – spot some of its rare wildlife. I need to get used to walking in crampons, with snow baskets on my walking poles, and prepare for the ascents and descents to come. In fact, most of the valley’s traditional Engadine houses are flamboyantly decorated – sundials, flowers, animals – using a “scratching” technique known as sgraffito. Its luminosity lifts the spirits, its silence allows me to hear every flurry of falling snow, every bird call.
