Big trees, bush-dancing, and a love of the Blues

I feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland... fallen down the rabbit hole and into a world that, although technically upside down from my own, is everything I could have ever dreamed of.

Back in New South Wales, I find myself with a new family -- The Paynes -- in the little town of Alstonville. One of those one-main-street kinda towns, Alstonville has everything it needs: one grocery store, one thai restaurant, one video rental place... all within walking distance from our house. It makes you feel almost silly for living in a place with so many options. Why have more than what you need? A sentiment that fits in line with everything else I've learned, from talks at the Sustainability festival in Melbourne to Geoff's wise words atop Tasmanian peaks.

I arrived at the Payne's beautiful blue-shuttered abode after being picked up by my two lovely sisters, Steph and Gen, at our little welcoming brunch in Heritage Park, Lismore. Having no knowledge whatsoever of what or whom to expect, my sisters essentially picked ME out of the crowd, eventually leading me to their Saab in the parking lot and off toward home in the country. Perhaps picking up on my big eyes and growing grin from the back seat as the rolling green hills began to multiply, Steph offered to take "the scenic route" home. To which I replied, "Yes, please."

I couldn't believe the view out my window -- it was like Hood River times fifty, and with Australian sunshine to boot. This was homestay? Sign me up forever.

We pulled into the driveway and the girls led me inside... I began to feel stupid for all my oohs and ahhs, but I just couldn't help it! Everything was so perfect, right down to the bookshelves bulging with stories from my own childhood flanking either side of my bedroom door. Walking in a little farther, I noticed a little white envelope sitting on my pillow. "From your host Mum!" it exclaimed across the front. Currently away at a World Music Festival in Adelaide, I was going to have to wait to meet my new "Mum" until Sunday, but this lovely little note more than made up for it. I decided to save it until I was alone, eager to explore the rest of the house.

Too excited to unpack really, the girls fancied a swim and asked if I wanted to go. At this point, a giggly, resounding "YES!" was about all that would come out of my mouth anyway, so away we went. I changed into my suit faster than I thought possible and jumped right back in the car, feeling a little like an eager dog ready for car ride. I had no idea what to expect.

Steph took another scenic approach and parked the car along a street with trees on either side, bridging together at the top to create a tunnel of leafy canopy. Wonnnnnderful. She liked this way to the water hole a little better, said it was more picturesque. What wasn't in this town? We got out and started down a red dirt path that gradually grew louder with kids voices, screams, and splashes as we neared a clearing.

Once we got out of the thicket, what I saw was unbelieveable. There, before my eyes, was the most beautiful "swimming hole" I'd ever seen: a creek at the top grew into a giant cascading waterfall that emptied down into a large pool, surrounded on all sides by steep rock cliffs of varying height and trees hanging out over the water. Around this top rim, kids gathered and looked out, willing themselves to jump before taking a leap and falling 30+ feet to the water with a yelp and big splash. On some parts, the rocks acted like little steps leading to more popular jump sites. Up above the waterfall, kids sat in the cool stream, watching the jumpers and gossiping to themselves. The sun shone down, giving shadows to the bodies flying through the air. I couldn't believe my eyes...

Feeling a sisterly duty already -- despite my fear of falling -- I obliged little sister Gen and agreed to accompany her on a jump. With Steph poised on the edge with her camera, Gen and I made our way barefoot across the creek to a smaller ledge. Encouraging each other and holding hands, I felt as though I'd known her forever when we'd met only an hour before. Incredible. After watching her bravely launch off the rocks, I looked around at my surroundings, took a deep breath, and jumped in -- arms and legs outstretched. The fall felt a lot longer than it looked, and the water a lot colder than I expected, but it was worth it. I'd survived! The rite of passage was complete.

After a leisurely swim across the pool, we wandered back up top (Steph met us at the water's edge and led the way up the slope) and sat in a circle, munching on our pre-packed picnic. I don't think any first day could have topped this one. On the drive home, the girls played me some of their favorite music as the breeze dried our damp hair.

So much has happened since that first night -- I've climbed my first fig tree, attended my first craft market at the nearby Channon, been introduced to numerous Australian artists thanks to my two sisters, dined out with my host Mum on Japanese, followed by a night of drinking fresh ginger tea and watching "Pride and Prejudice" (Colin Firth version... apparently the scene with Mr. Darcy emerging from the pond in his sopping wet, white shirt is an undisputed favorite), helped my sister Gen with geometry homework (take that, high school math!), swam at two new beaches (one, called Wategos, in Byron, and another at Flat Rock in Ballina), introduced my family to rum cake, enchiladas, and the Leigh-patented Word-O-Day, and witnessed my first Australian hail storm (golf ball-sized = normal?). In addition to all these moments, however, one of the best came two nights ago when I attended my first ever Australian "bush dance." Basically an Aussie-version of a square dance, this particular event was also sponsoring the endangered orangutan, so my sustainability focus fit right in. At class the day before, I'd dutifully tried to recruit fellow students as I presented a (stolen) poster about the event. People seemed excited, but only three others ended up showing up. Nonetheless, my family and I took it very seriously, right down to our St. Patty's-inspired eye makeup and big, twirly skirts. Steph braided her hair like Heidi and I donned my cowboy hat before we jumped in the car -- ready to bush dance our butts off.

Earlier that day, Steph and I had been on our own, spending a little time cleaning up around the house to some Aretha hits from back in the day. Going through their music selection while passing through the living room, I discovered that my host Mum's musical taste was me, in a nutshell. James Taylor, Aretha, Eva Cassidy, and Keb' Mo? I felt like the long lost daughter.

So anyway, Aretha had been stuck in my head already when Steph surprised us by revealing a CD that she immediately shoved into the car's player... the melodious sounds of Aretha soon filling the car, accompanied by our three voices shouting at the top of our lungs. Steph and Megan, my Mum, are a little hard of hearing so being in the car with them is great because they play the music so loud! I absolutely loved it, and I think Aretha would've, too. As we transitioned from R-E-S-P-E-C-T to Say A Little Prayer, the view out my window went from good to gorgeous. With the sun setting in front of us, the eucalypts and cow fields became almost magical. The fading light gave everything a soft, warm feeling and the air smelled like sweet flowers. I felt like I was in a dream.

Once we arrived at the bush dance, the night just kept getting better. Tossing my flip flops and bag aside, I joined Steph and some other friends on the dance floor and learned tons of new moves, including the Virginia Reel, while being swung and flung by a slew of Australian gentlemen. Our long-bearded caller -- and lead banjo player -- instructed us patiently from up on the stage, slipping occasionally into a "come on, now -- FOCUS!" as the beers came out and people lost what little rhythm they had to begin with. Sweaty and happy, we piled back into the car around 11 PM, munching fresh apples and listening to Eva on the easy night ride home.

It's good to be home, Alstonville.