Taylor Meadows 1993

Friendly spirits please summon me back to Garibaldi Park,
I remember in 1972 my first encounter with those mountains,
In those days just many close friends,
Now many decades later and wonderful years spent up there accumulating,

That unkempt gravel and mud trail would challenge the hiking enthusiast in us all,
I promised that trail would never defeat me but only greet me,
Now the yearly pilgrimage is with my family,
We traverse upwards with such ease knowing each bend,

Send me into this vision of serenity I would proclaim in silence,
As an older man the ancient soul which dwells in my being,
Would urge me to explore another facet amongst this explosive beauty,
The wildflowers are generous and each family member too,

I knew even at a tender age,
The knowledge of creativity and the hunger to express,
Can be present in all people along with the beauty of everything,
Perhaps the foundation of all of the Arts,

The weeks up in that park would urge me to return,
Eventually the many paintings of our adventures at Black Tusk would grow,
From each yearly vantage point all would be different,
And from the long hike; your splendid first vision begins in Taylor Meadows.