I have taken to going on the terrace first thing each morning to check if I can see the Pyrennees

This morning they were faintly visible and some words of a song from the sixties came to mind.
They seemed appropiate to my morning ritual so I googled them and found they were from a Donovan song:

First there is a mountain
then there is no mountain,
then there is

Oh, the snow will be a blinding sight
to see as it lies
on yonder hillside

(admittedly there is lot of other stuff about caterpillers, snails and calling Juanita’s name, which has nothing to do with mountains, so I have conveniently omitted it)