This is a different photograph. So are the boxes. The pallets are probably the same.

Once again, cardboard stands by the roadside. Flattened, stacked, nested. Ready to be collected.

For a field note, this is not ideal.

For cardboard collection, it is precisely the point.

It happens.

Then again.

And again.

People put their cardboard out because they know someone will come. Not more or less. Not at some point. But when the calendar says so.

It is no different down in the lowlands.

There too, paper, cardboard, and rubbish are collected. Streets are cleaned, post is delivered, utilities are maintained, and paths are kept clear. Usually, we only notice when one of these things does not happen.

In Mürren, there is a little more altitude between the houses.

This changes less than outsiders assume.

A mountain village is not made habitable by mountains alone. It needs timetables, collection days, and people who show up when they said they would.

The altitude may be spectacular.

Everyday life better not.

The Alps can wait.

Today is cardboard.