Full Moon
August 15th-16th, 1989
MISCHIEF IN THE AIR .... Full Moon at Play

The time drew near to journey to the north point, the feminine polarity of the grid. On August 16th, the full moon in Aquarius would rise eclipsed, and was labeled by the Natives a "blood moon". The Native messages carried an aura of foreboding, and predicted numerous upheavals in the months to come.

On August 13th, David and I drove to the Warden's Office at Saskatchewan Crossing, on the Banff-Jasper Highway, to get the latest trail information. Howse Pass, on the Great Divide, could be accessed either from Banff Park or from the Blaeberry Valley, north of Golden. I had been counseled by some of the locals, to enter the area from parkside, as the trails were used more often and, in all probability, would be in better condition. As much rain had fallen in the previous weeks, I elected to hike in from the park. 

David and I were told at the Warden's office that we should be prepared to get our feet wet as some of the trails were washed out. We also learned that we were heading into dense grizzly country, where sightings were common. 

That night I received a call from Karin and Seamas, friends from Vancouver Island. They were in Alberta and wanted to celebrate the full moon with me. I told them I planned to plant the rose quartz, the Mother crystal, that day. They were very excited at the prospect of seeding the north gridpoint and agreed to meet at Waterfowl Campsite on the Banff-Jasper Hwy. the next night.
It was after dark when Karin and Seamas finally arrived. Following many hugs and sharings, David and I helped them set up camp and we all retired. Our plans were to trek into the Howse Pass area on the 15th, plant the crystal on the 16th, and come out on the 17th. The hike was approximately 18 kilometers one way. Before we set out, all of us joined hands. I asked for Archangel Mikaël's guidance and protection. Then, we cheerfully started up the trail. The sky looked like it might clear. However, within the first hour, heavy clouds moved in and visibility became almost nil. We checked our topo map, and followed the Howse River. After some time passed, something didn't feel right. We checked our maps again ... all of us experienced hikers. Everything checked out so we continued. The rains started to pelt down on us, so we all donned our wetgear. 

We walked for an hour and a half, checking our maps often. Suddenly, Seamas said, How come I can hear cars? "Shouldn't we be a few miles from the highway?"

I answered, "Sound really echoes through these mountains." 

A few minutes later, Seamas said, "I understand why I can hear cars, but how come I can see cars ... just over there?" We all looked in the direction Seamas was pointing. A car sped by. We looked at each other in disbelief, and burst out laughing. 

We hadn't realized how swollen the waterways were. A raging rivulet, which we crossed, was thought to be Mistaya Creek, but it wasn't. We had walked an elongated circle along the swollen Mistaya thinking it was the Howse River. 

We came upon a sign which read, "Mistaya Canyon Trailhead". I checked with my Guidance. For unknown reasons, we had been protected from entering the backcountry from the northeast. We all felt quite relieved as the weather had really closed in. 

A strong feeling came that made me realize that we were to go into Howse Pass from the southwest route at the top of the Blaeberry Valley, north of Golden. I shared my insights with the group. Raindrenched, we merrily headed back to our cars, three miles down the highway. It poured and snowed the rest of the day. We drove to Golden and stayed the night. 

The morning of the Full Moon, we headed up from Golden along the Blaeberry River on a narrow Forestry dirt road. It was still raining and quite chilly for an August day. The map showed the road running up the drainage approximately 10 kilometers short of the pass. We had a soggy hike ahead of us, so we prepared by donning our raingear. I had been up the Blaeberry before, all the way to the end of the road. It is a very primitive area with little else of civilization except the logging road, which narrows considerably further up the valley.

We crossed the last bridge over Blaeberry Creek. However, instead of coming to an end as the map indicated, the road began to wind up the side of the mountain. The surface was very gravelly, so we decided to carry on as far as we could by car. My car is a Subaru and she, (Soo-Bee), sometimes thinks she is a 4-wheel drive. We felt so blessed, as this marvellous road took us deep into Howse Pass. My odometer registered another 11.5 kilometers. We were ecstatic, whooping it up, cheering and hollering!

We drove until the road became impassible. At this point, I had to manoeuver the car in reverse, down a steep hill and turn it around at a spot that was just a hair  wider than the rest of the road. Earlier, near the creek at the bottom of the valley, Seamas and I had both felt a vibrational pull, but nothing was spoken at the time. As we backtracked, we again approached the creek. Seamas and I verbalized our feelings about the area in unison. We all laughed. Spirit was magically guiding us to the crystal's ideal destination.

We got out of the car and began to wander around searching intuitively for the ideal site to bury the crystal. Seamas and I seemed to be pulled in the same direction, so we continued to remain sensitive to this synergy between us.

Finally Seamas shouted, "I think I've found the spot." I hurried over. He was standing near a beautiful young sapling which was part of a circular group of trees. This was certainly the pattern for all the sites so far. I immediately felt that wondrous Presence which was so familiar, and agreed that this was indeed the site.
Seamas began digging the hole. I put my pack down and gently pulled out the rose quartz crystal. This soothing stone felt very loving, and had been gifted for the gridwork by my beloved mentors, Hal and Maggie Pym of Vancouver. I placed other grid crystals in the grass around the hole Seamas had dug. They all wanted to be present. Then I lay my clear quartz necklace down and looked up.

Seamas and Karin hovered over me. Seamas was holding a large clear quartz point, which I knew to be his treasured personal crystal. He said to me, "It's got to go in too." I felt a lump in my throat. I understood his reasoning for surrendering this precious stone. The point would act as a receiver for the raw Mother quartz.
Laying the Mother Stone, high in Howse Pass. The constant rain didn't dampen our spirits!
I asked, "Seamas, are you sure?"  Without hesitation, he replied, "Yes!"

David, Seamas, Karin and I held hands forming a circle above the site, amplifying the angelic frequencies which moved through us. There in the wilderness, in the pouring rain, I placed Seamas' crystal in the hole first, point up to act as receiver, then laid the Mother stone carefully alongside, returning this pure crystalline transmitter back to Mother Earth.

This feminine ray stone holds great significance in the gridwork. The Archangel indicated that the feminine energy was intricately woven throughout the grid, which was one of the reasons I had been chosen for this work. The moment brought a greater sense of oneness with Mother Earth ... loving respect and great honour to the Feminine Ray. 

In recapping the amazing protection we had which facilitated setting the rose quarts in this sacred site with ease and grace, the Capricorn in me was definitely learning that it was no longer necessary to do things the hard way. I shared this insight with the others, and we all roared as Seamas knowingly rolled his eyes.

The next two points of the grid would teach me the effortlessness that is available when one  surrenders.

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