By Clive Emery

One of our local wonderlands is the Minnamurra Falls. Situated beyond Jamberoo from Kiama, follow the Jamberoo Mountain Road to the foothills to a right-hand turn which will lead you to the parking area and kiosk.

From where you are launched into a primordial forest of transcendent ruggedness and beauty as nature intended its lovers to experience.

When I first saw it with my brother Cliff over 60 years ago, we were enthralled by the experience of being in a bush setting where seldom the foot of man had ever trod.

Like demons, we scrambled up the mountainside to the upper falls to see the cascading stream descending through the thick scrub to the lower falls.

We disturbed a couple of lyrebirds and they went scurrying at our approach, but the bush was full of bird song and near at hand wonga pigeons were calling.

We drank from the stream, and munched our apples while we revelled under the cloak of the forest and listened to its sounds.

We were bush boys, thoroughly versed in knowledge of the bush and of its inhabitants.

It was one of our prime joys to explore the bush and its wonders and listen to its songs, inspired and encouraged by the teacher at the little school in Foxground, where nature study was an important part of our learning.

An hour must have passed before we returned to the rest of our party of four, and found them splashing in the chilly water below the impressive lower falls.

As it was a hot day, we joined them for a swim before another scramble into the forest across the stream and back into the scrub where we found immense cedar trees growing.

Returning to join the others who had the billy boiling, we told them over lunch of our find, and said we would take them there. We were amazed and felt we had discovered something as precious as gold.

We vowed not to tell others of our find, for fear it might get to the ears of timber-getters and be destroyed.

Within a few years our fears were allayed however, for a Mr Judd, who was the owner on land adjacent, had the foresight to have the area declared a national treasure and placed under the care of the National Parks & Wildlife.

My interest was excited recently when our church group decided to have a picnic at Minnamurra Falls, and I agreed to go, knowing that over the years it had been developed as a tourist resort by the National Park trustees.

I was anxious to see the development, among other things. On the day I was held up and missed the departure of the rest of the troop, but still decided to go.

On my arrival I was surprised to find umpteen buses and cars had beaten me to the huge parking lot, laid out in terraces above the modern kiosk and launching point for visitors.

I could not find any of the party, so concluded they had already made their way into the forest, and I would catch them up, or else they had called the trip off without telling me.

I had not seen the changes that had taken place, although I had heard of the board walkways installed in latter years.

I was surprised to find they diverged and did not include the lower falls, which was a pity, for they had an appeal equal to, if not better than, the cascades of the top falls.

Once on the wooden walkway I found it a tremendous advantage, especially as they are capable of being undertaken on wheelchairs, and all people were able to enjoy the scent and beauty of the bush.

Without hesitation I took the path to the top falls, passing many teams of schoolchildren pausing on the way to be instructed by their leaders on aspects of the bush.

I would have liked to participate in the lectures for I was disappointed to notice trees like Sassafras, Maiden's Blush, Cedars and a thousand others were not identified for the benefit of students, and there was a possibility of them not being known by the teacher as well.

However it was not my task, and I continued on in search of the falls, reaching them after a walk of an hour and a half.

Owing to recent rains they were going at full blast, cascading over the rocks in holiday mood.

I reflected on the ease the walkway made when compared with my first sighting of these falls, and I hoped the timbered walkway would be able to withstand the gloom and damp of the forest.

On my return I observed the bottom fall from above only, and had to peer through the branches to see them at all.

I wondered just why a platform had not been erected at the pool below for a better presentation - perhaps it is still in mind.

At the joining of the walkways I found the second one led me back to the magnificent Cedar trees my brother and I had 'discovered' so many years back.

And I was proud to see them again in their pristine beauty, appearing more immense and numerous than I remembered.

I stayed a long time at this point just thinking and admiring and reflecting on the foresight of one man who had made their preservation possible, and I dashed a tear or two to know they now would never fall to the axe!

It does one good that millions of people may now see the living tree that had opened the coast of New South Wales to other pioneers, almost forgotten as we race madly by on bituminised roadways between towns, always in a hurry with no time to reflect.

As I sat in my car and had my sandwiches and tea (from a thermos flask), I felt I should gather some friends and come back to this place when the weather is comfortable and the locusts are chirruping.

I would like there to be just ourselves, and we could boil a billy of tea by the creeks, and I could tell them of our 'discovery' and the thought I I had in 1936!