Dreams of New Earth

In the old days, the satellite pictures of North Africa were golden yellow all the way across the continent, from the Atlantic to the Gulf. It was the only place on Earth that looked like that.

Well, it doesn’t look like that any more.

Its transformation has been a big job and it isn’t finished yet. But it’s been hugely satisfying for everyone involved, including me.

When the Saharan Council came into being it seemed almost a miracle that it could exist. After all, it included so many states divided by a long history of conflict, and cultural and religious differences. But then, the same miracle was happening all over the Earth, and wherever it happened, it amazed us.

The Cabal had been keeping us divided for millennia, through war and religion and false flags, and when Disclosure revealed how we’d been duped, we did feel pretty humiliated for a while. And angry. And sad.

But as the Ascension energies increased in strength, they purged all our grudges away. And our anger, and our sadness, and all the rest of the darkness we’d been carrying around for so long. Those who wouldn’t let go of their darkness had to go elsewhere to continue their journeys, so they weren’t around to obstruct progress any more.

And as individuals and countries behaved with integrity towards their neighbours, trust grew between them. As they showed generosity, it was returned. Friendship grew. Love grew. And with no Cabal to undermine it, our sense of Oneness grew from day to day. As if it was the natural way to be. Which it is, of course.

And that’s how the Saharan Council could come into being, and that’s why it functions as well as it does.

So anyway, the new Councillors asked themselves the following questions: ‘With all this new technology, what is possible for our land? And do we want to leave it as it is, or change it? After all, the Saharan sands are beautiful, but they do tend to spread, and engulf the fertile land around them. And they haven’t always been there. Once the land was under the sea. Once it was fertile. So we need to see what is possible, and then we need to offer our people a choice.’

This whole issue of choice was a new one. Up until now, graceful acceptance in the face of the inevitable had seemed the wisest attitude. But nothing was inevitable any more. They had choice. And even if they chose to do nothing, it was still a choice.

It turned out that the ergs – the great seas of sand – would always be a threat to the lands around them. They were hundreds of feet deep – too deep to fix with vegetation. The weather could be modified, but it wouldn’t convert them into fertile land. And most importantly, the sand wasn’t a natural feature. It had been created by war – an ancient catastrophe, long before the one that destroyed Atlantis.

The Council consulted with the people, who said, ‘Let’s remove it.’

The work began in the East and the West, moving in towards the centre. Big transporter saucers were used, hovering overhead, and creating powerful anti-gravity vortices that sucked up sand-spouts into their holds like enormous vacuum-cleaners. Then the sand went to huge converters and part of it was transformed into soil, which was then spread across the cleared land. Viewed from space, the brown crept in from East and West, and the golden-yellow area in the middle grew thinner and thinner until at last it disappeared.

And as the sand disappeared, the true contours of the land beneath came into view for the first time in eons – millions of square kilometres of it, with mountains and valleys, highlands and lowlands, and ancient river beds. Extraordinary.

And just as extraordinary, the lost cities of an ancient civilisation, blasted by war and buried in sand. Immense buildings for people thirty-six feet in height. Technology so advanced that we still can’t understand what some of it is for. Art and artefacts that are strange and beautiful, or strange and ugly, or just strange. Giant skeletons, some with jewellery and scraps of clothing, preserved by the dryness of the desert sand.

Fortunately, the cities no longer held the negative energies of that cruel civilisation; the tsunamis of light had washed them all away.

But it was hard to decide what to do with it all. The Saharan Council took it to the Earth Council, and after consultation with the Sphere Beings the Earth Council invited the views of the entire population of the planet, via the new communication technologies.

We debated it at length. In the end, the deciding factor was the Akashic Records, which mean that nobody’s history is ever truly lost. We decided to remove all the cities except one, which would be turned into a huge museum to house the most interesting and beautiful objects.

And then the greening of the Sahara could begin.

Volunteers were called for, with experience in Earth Healing or Ecology. I was fortunate to be selected, and served with the western arm of the Sahara Project for three years.

We had the best of both worlds. Yes, we had the wonderful new technologies, which speeded up the work tremendously. But we also worked directly with the elementals and nature spirits. They know how ecological systems work better than anyone, and can re-balance them easily on the energetic plane. But they need to work with people. They need our feet on the ground. We are like their lightning rods, bringing their energies down to Earth.

The Project started in the East and the West, and has been working inwards over the years. The new soil is irrigated with desalinated seawater, piped in from the Atlantic Ocean or the Arabian Sea, whichever is nearest. Then it is seeded with all the life that healthy soil contains – from microbes to earthworms, from plants to fungi. And all this can be done by impregnating the damp soil with the energetic signature of their DNA.

The weather systems have had to change too, bringing regular rainfall to the Sahara without upsetting the weather systems of adjoining areas, and the elementals are the experts in this field too. Sure, there are weather control technologies, but they are crude in comparison. Much better to go to the experts. And anyway, it is their love, their joy and their service.

After three years I moved back to New Zealand, but I still feel connected to the Sahara and its transformation, and whenever I go to Europe to visit family or friends, I cross North Africa on the way out or the way back. The walls of the saucer can go transparent, leaving just me, my chair and the console speeding over the land. Over the years I’ve watched the brown area in the middle shrinking, as the green moves in from the East and the West.

Sometimes I drop down closer to the land in the far East or the far West – the first areas to be regenerated, where the trees are rapidly approaching maturity. I pass through the green river valleys, across the grasslands and over the mountain ranges with their forests and waterfalls. It’s very beautiful now. The birds and butterflies have already moved in, and the animals are following on behind.

The people are moving in, too. But not in the way we used to do it – grabbing a chunk of land and fencing it off. They move in gently, feeling their way, consulting the other people, consulting the devas, consulting the animals, finding a niche that is in sympathy with the precious new ecology, and contributing their own love and service to its wellbeing.

 

© Sue J Davis 2015

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