On the fourth day of our trip to New Hampshire, a Sunday, the morning dawned without rain, and we were grateful. Instead, a pearl-grey fog enveloped the area and when we exited the cottage we could see the faint outline of the sun struggling to cut through the fog. As the sun rose higher above the mountain peaks in the near distance, it managed to dissipate the fog, though mist kept rising in white sheets from the valleys below the mountainsides. As we prepared for the day, the sun broke through and we knew we'd be enjoying a bright sunny day.

We decided a trip along the Kancamagus Highway for our day's destination. We'd go to Rocky Gorge. One of our favoured places to see all that nature's geology could contrive to astonish we puny humans. As its name implies it is a rocky gorge set at the base of the White Mountains where the Swift River is fed by mountain streams rushing downhill out of the mountains in great swirling gushes over the waterfall and rapids that have been worn through the granite base over time.

Typically, because the huge, wide granite is partially horizontal surrounding the gorge itself, people like to make their way down onto the spectacular flattened areas to peer down at closer range to relish the sight of the water swirling and boiling into the gorge. We had our share of that when we first came to the site, and no longer have any interest in repeating the experience. Not that it's dangerous or forbidden, since neither is true, but we leave it for others to make their own discoveries.

And although it was a Sunday we were surprised to see such relatively few people about to engage with the spectacle. Reason to be grateful, actually. And although the landscape is spectacular, viewing the mountains off in the distance, and the river speeding its way along, the water spurting around and through the boulders lining its course, then spilling boisterously over into the gorge, we didn't spend very much time taking it all in, familiar as it has become to us.

Over the bridge and a brief stop midway to the opposite shore of the river, to take a few photographs and wonder at the might of nature's picturesque geological treasures, and we entered a copse of woods comprised of mostly old hemlock and pine, some quite sizeable in girth. One mighty old tree that grew in a very conspicuous spot where two trails converged and a bench had been set, had collapsed at some time in the past several months -- it had still been intact when we were there in June -- and that struck a sad note.

We were headed to Falls Pond, a small forest-interior lake just a short walk in from the gorge. There's a lookout and a picnic table before the lake surrounded by forest, a place to rest and  to contemplate the landscape. As usual, the lake was rippled by a sharp breeze that seems always to blow across its surface. When the sun is out, blazing across the sky, those ripples turn into flashing diamonds. There are tadpoles swimming about and close to the shoreline, aquatic plants.

Hard to say whether this trail is familiar to Jackie and Jillie, but they're always enthusiastic about setting out on a  hike in the woods. We left the lake area and began to climb the Lovequist Trail that circles the lake, making our way up the ladders of twisted tree roots that typify this trail. There is an area that is always a bit boggy and a bit of a detour is always advisable.

As we make our way along the trail following Jackie and Jillie who lead the way, although we keep them on leash, they're excited and happy to be out, and so are we. Glancing to our left from time to time and stopping, we see the lake's surface glinting in the sun, through the screen of the trees alongside the trail. Dogwood grow in abundance here, as the understory, and their leaves are beginning to turn pink-red, berries dangling in bright red.

Just as we're curious about the lake, viewing it through the trees, so are Jackie and Jillie who also stop occasionally to pose themselves on a fallen tree trunk to gaze downward at the lake below us, from the steadily rising trail. Eventually we come to a swamp area, just perfect for moose, though we've never yet seen any there. At the junction of the swamp the trail turns sharply left again and rises steeply at first, before levelling off, and we continue our trek.

This occasion turned out to be the only one during our trip and the varied forest trails we would take, when we relented, and decided it seemed safe enough, given the lay of the trail, to allow our two puppies to roam the trail alongside us, off leash. It's not that they object to being on leash, just that we felt it might be appropriate on this occasion when we felt sufficiently satisfied they would come to no harm, to allow them free reign to a degree.

It takes us about an hour of leisure hiking to complete the circuit. We have come across several other people taking the trail from the opposite end, but by and large it is deserted other than for our presence.