On Black Horse Creek

“People who haven’t seen our rainforest should see our rainforest.”

Linda Woodrow

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Breakfast at Black Horse

Spent the weekend camping in Northern New South Wales, consuming more than my fair share of stellar food (story of my life) and surrounded by spectacular examples of permaculture, sustainability and living off the earth like I didn’t even know was possible.

Movable chicken coops that double as octagonal gardens, all in different stages of the composing/growth process. An aquaponic system that uses reeds to filter rainwater before entering a pristine in-ground swimming pool. A native rainforest, planted fifteen years prior and nurtured to fruition. Homes built so finely in tune with their surroundings that it’s hard to tell where the outdoors ends and the home begins; they just sort of meld into each other. A renovated bus that served as a bedroom for a high school boy. Solar-powered homes. Composting toilets with scenic views. Outdoor bathtubs.

Our food was all homegrown, our bread was sourdough, our scraps were all composted. We ate lilly pillies off the trees, picked fresh limes, learned about Aboriginal food practices.

This kind of living, so fascinating to me, places my suburban American upbringing in a whole different category altogether. No driers, no dishwashers, no linoleum. This is a different kind of living. These are real choices, real lifestyles made by people so intensely passionate that they have created their own utopia, their own witness to the truth in a quiet corner of the world.

This country- this earth is so beautiful. It’s remarkable to see different ways of living in and on it. It’s powerful to see how these brilliant, lovely people tread so gently and what’s possible when people and community forge and work together.

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