I began with the idea that I would draw Grandpa Capilano, the tallest tree in the Capilano Watershed reaching 61 meters from the earth. My girls and I know Grandpa Capilano well. Each time we walk his trail, we stop and pay him respect, bid him good day. We admire his trunk, broad and deeply grooved. He is an embodiment of stability and wisdom as he stands through time.
Yet, somehow, on my page instead of a rotund wizened old man, this rather scrawny, comparatively youthful, yogi presented himself amidst the lush greenery of the watershed. Somewhat surprised I carried on with the drawing until the page, which he climbed off and became two pages, was full. I can only conclude that our Grandpa Capilano must be a trickster, how else could he have survived so long so close to the city?