After awhile we could smell the smoke from morning wake up camp fires. It made me think of the bacon and eggs we used to eat when we camped when I was a kid. The smell of fire and sizzling bacon always was just enough to pull me out of the warm snuggle of my sleeping bag (though the morning cold in New Mexico is real, not like Georgia at all where all we had was a little shiver in our short sleeves).
One of us was a snake hunter of course, but we did not find even one snake. There were many little toads and tadpoles, baby ducks and even some baby birds fallen from a nest which I hadn't the heart to take a picture of. Here and there wildflowers bloomed, but not prolifically. You had to be paying attention. Lots of them had little horn or bell shaped blossoms. And poison ivy was all over the place. Sticking to the trail was a must.
We walked both sides of the river. One side zig-zagged back and forth between water and hills. There were many, many signs about the Danger of Death from playing on the rocks or in the falls.
Down away from the falls, the water was quieter, even almost swampish and later in the year I am sure it will be an insect paradise.
As it was, we came home with a few ticks (!).
It was a holiday, and by the time we left, many families with picnics were arriving and throwing frisbees and rowing little boats on the lake above the falls.
We headed back to the city for Chinese food. And later, our snake hunter went out and found 3 snakes in our neighborhood park. How's that?!