Rocky Gorge, along the Kancamagus Highway in the White Mountain Range of New Hampshire is not one of the many sites that we've been long familiar with. We only became acquainted with it about five or six years ago, when we chanced upon people we had once come across during one of our trips to Sabbaday Falls, who told us about it.

We've since returned to it as often as we could, not only to view the rocky outcroppings and the mountain stream that rushes swiftly over those granite platforms that form part of the watershed of the mountainous area in which it sits. The relatively slight but powerful waterfall, pools and cascades are beautiful to behold and particularly as they sit in a magnificent setting.

And beyond that lovely natural setting there is for us yet another attraction that primarily brings us back to this site year after year. Beyond the Gorge itself where the Swift River races downstream in a frantic runoff from the nearby mountains, there is a picturesque small lake. It is a tranquil place of great beauty, a kind of feast for the eyes and balm for the soul.

And then, stretching on either side of the lake there are trails. One trail, the one we are familiar with, loops in a relatively modest circuit around the lake. It is a humid atmosphere that prevails. There are lots of strawlilies in bloom there at that time of year; dogwood proliferates and blueberry bushes as well. What's left of the trilliums that bloomed earlier are impressive in size.

There's lots of false Solomon's Seal, and lilies-of-the-valley to be seen in the underbrush beside the trail. There again, hemlock and yellow birch predominate, with dogwood and moose maple comprising the understory. Among the hemlock and yellow birch are firs, pine, spruce, maples, white birch and poplar, a nice mix of deciduous and conifers.

The trail we take skirts the neat little lake, and it is comprised of soft humus underfoot, rich with mosses, lichens, and a constant, humid atmosphere. Often when we are there, it is raining, usually a light rain. Because it is always so damp there, colours are glowingly intense. The trail is thick with pine needles and they appear bright orange, a lovely colour foil against the dense greens of the forest.

While we didn't time ourselves at any time on our hike and we certainly took our time, I'd guess the circuit took us around two-third to three-quarters of an hour. We rarely see other hikers on this trail. Most people tend to congregate on the rocks, or stand on the bridge over the Swift River from which perspective one can view in either direction its tumultuous journey, spraying and spuming its course downriver.

The solitude is appreciated, the fact that we can decide to exercise our bodies and treat our eyes to the timeless spectacle of nature unfolding her seasons in such a magnificent place and literally have it all to ourselves represents quite the bonus for us. Leading us often to wonder why it is that people prefer to bypass the opportunity to do as we do, acquaint and re-acquaint ourselves whenever the opportunity arises with all that nature offers in a more lasting, intimate way than merely standing on a bridge or briefly standing on a rocky promontory.