42KM North of the town of Katherine in the Northern Territory sits Nitmiluk National Park, named after the aboriginal ‘Place of the Cicadas’, and home to Katherine Gorge and Edith Falls.

We’re visiting Edith Falls today, known more recently by its aboriginal name of Leliyn, which comprises several waterfalls between three pools of clear crocodile free water. Now I should clarify here for the less cautious, if you read the warnings about crocodiles in this area you may be forgiven for thinking there are no crocodiles, Salties or otherwise. Read the warnings carefully though and you may think again about plunging into that tempting creek or billabong. The information display near Edith Falls kiosk clearly states that a management plan regularly surveys the area, sets traps and removes any saltwater crocodiles found. It does not say there are no crocodiles. Still thinking it’s safe to swim?

Leliyn Trail

The trail then levels out through a mixture of scrub and Kapok trees before climbing again to the high point offering our first view of the top waterfall. It’s an impressive sight even during the dry season and we can only imagine what it would be like in the ‘Wet’.

Our walk to the upper falls follows the Leliyn Trail, which starts from the car park and heads steeply uphill for 500-metres giving the first view of the lower pool. As usual, any photographer will be competing with the abundant trees and shrubs to get a good view despite the recent bush fire.

Thongs in the bush – seriously?

A brief stop for lunch and we were soon being passed by some very young children clambering over the rocks and boulders that lead down to the falls, and where were their supervising parents? This section of the trail is not for those without experience of scrambling, fear of heights or generally unsteady in their gait. There are sharp rocks, gravel paths, slippery surfaces and highly venomous snakes in this area, yet people seem to believe thongs and not enclosed walking shoes are appropriate despite all the warnings at the start of each trail. Still, I guess natural selection will weed these people out over time.

Swimming Hole

Being from the UK, where the weather isn’t always conducive to swimming in rivers, or safe for that matter, I still find it hard to understand why people are allowed to swim within National Parks. Why?

Well, with such a pristine an environment as this and the conservation efforts that help keep it that way, humans carry germs and viruses on their skin and that’s not to mention the young ones in the water today in nappies. Not only that but as many a landscape photographer will tell you, scenery is for looking at and not for clambering over and dropping litter.

A case in point of the need to conserve this area lays with some of the flora found here and only in one other place – Southwest Australia.

The upper pool waterfall is a thing of beauty even during the dry season as we visited but it’s also full of people swimming in and around it. If ever there was a need for Photoshop this was it. And fellow photographers will know exactly what I mean.

Two further footbridges lead over the river to the opposite bank where a steep scramble leads to a viewpoint looking downstream to the second pool. You’ll hear the sound of a waterfall but it is obscured by rocks. Continuing a little further and the walk levels out with a second viewpoint signed Bemang Lookout at a junction in the path. We heartedly recommend this 40-metre detour for the view upstream and of the waterfall, obscured at the last viewpoint, but which also takes in the top waterfall and pools where we earlier crossed the river.

The remainder of the walk starts a gradual decent with views across to the distant hills. Finally dropping down into the valley and alongside the first waterfall and pool, which we had barely seen through the trees when we first started the walk. Here easy access to the water is provided with canoes available to rent and a campsite and cafe. It was while we were here waiting for an ice cream that I noticed something moving among leaves near the path. Our first snake and a venomous one too! It was a black whip snake about 1.5-metres long and searching for food oblivious to us standing nearby taking photographs. It eventually moved across right where I had been sitting and off towards the campsite to spread a little excitement.

A local aboriginal man spoke about the snake and advised lookers on that it was safe and not aggressive but a bite would be potentially fatal for a young child or aged adult likening it’s bite to that of pouring battery acid onto an open wound. A couple who had just completed the same walk as us had earlier seen what appeared to be a king brown snake with its coppery coloured scales.

A Balancing Act

On the way into the National Park we noticed several large boulders balancing on top of each other. These were very similar to the balancing rocks at The Devils Marbles, also known as Karlu Karlu, that we had planned to see but which would have been a long diversion on our route. We were also earlier advised that it was very busy there and difficult getting a space to camp overnight. So, on the return leg, leaving Nitmiluk, we pulled over to photograph the stones and we appeared to be the only ones taking any notice of them.

Much of this region is composed of sandstone but of a type unlike any I had seen before. Most sandstone is grainy and breaks apart easily. Here the layers of sand from a former inland sea have been compressed to such an extent over millions of years that the grains have fused into an extremely hard, glossy rock. The crystal structure that has resulted leads the rock to weather into square blocks and eons of rain and wind eventually round-off the corners leaving almost circular ‘balls’ left balancing on top of each other. The precariously placed rock in this case was over two metres wide.

Now, if you were to stand here long enough, and it will likely take quite a while – be patient, you may witness the rock finally topple to the ground to become just another boulder scattered across the bush. And then all the magic over millions of years that produced this balancing act will have been lost for all time.

So, pull-over, stop, admire and take a photograph before it’s too late. You may even be the person that photographs the rock as it teeters and falls. Or, less fortunately, the one standing a little too close for a selfie, the one wearing thongs.