My first Tasmanian bush walk was a huge success on the weekend. The weather decided to play nice – well, it was overcast but at least it held off from bucketing down – and my partner and I had previously discovered a walk close to our house that we had down on the list of things to do one weekend. So, feeling particularly enthusiastic and active for a Sunday, we started down the rocky overgrown path into a deep valley.
Within five minutes we were completely submersed in the wilderness; not a sound could be heard except for an occasional bird call, the gentle murmuring of the trees in the breeze and a ever so soft hint of water from far below in the valley. It was magical, after a week of rush and craziness in the city.
It was quite a hike down to the water, but there was plenty to see on the way down – a shelter at a lookout point, small caves in the mountainside, amazing shades of moss and fungi clinging to old tree trunks, and wildflowers of many shades of cream and pink covering the understory.
The waterfall itself was about ten metres high, cascading into an inviting natural rock pool before continuing down the creek through the ferns and boulders. I could have stayed there all afternoon – perhaps I will next time.