Actually Elva is not the mountain pass but a small village along the road that winds down to the neighbouring valley. In the old times Elva was known for a very specific activity, they were "hair seekers". In the good season men went roaming all the region, this means also the nearby France, and bought hair from young women all around, the bargaining could even take the whole day. Then they would come home and make wigs and the like for customers in all the world.
I remember the first time I got to the pass, it was late May, a sunny but windy day with big white clouds roaming the sky, but the real beauty was on the ground. Everywhere coloured blossoms of flowers, white, yellow and blue were thickly carpeting the meadows.
It was like pure magic, so overwhelming that it took me a while before I reached for my camera.
The view was breathtaking, clouds zipping from behind the ridges and marmots running across the meadows or enjoying the sun on top of their mounds.
A week later the day was not as shiny, the place was still gorgeous but the jewelry and the colours magic had all gone, if I hadn't my pix I wouldn't believe it.
Last ones have been taken in early October. The colours had all gone, just the sky and a dull brown on the dry ground, but again it surprised me. The valley on the South side was covered in a thick fog with the mountain ridges just drawing out in the mist below us.
The magic was not gone, it was just different.