The strokes that produced a happy little cloud, a meandering river or an icy mountain peak were brisk and certain.

The ragged mountain peak off my right wing blots out the northern horizon.

A lone mountain peak sends the prevailing northerly winds into streets of swirling clouds.

The warm haze of the metropolis beyond spreads low over the base of a mountain peak.

Like heli-skiing, competent bikers looking to push themselves beyond the limit are flown to the top of a mountain peak inaccessible by any other means, in a helicopter.