The Crane
Prince of the birds
Best wishes on your journey
On wings of cranes
With spans of one thousand years
Fly from this realm
Into your next place in time
Your soul lives on
In songs of eternity
On the morning of July 9 a solemn silence coloured the air as I strolled through Stanley Park. With a few ink pens and my sketchbook in my backpack, I was in search of a flat shaded spot where I could sit down and draw something for my grandfather.
As we continued to walk, I thought about how it was a pity I hadn't packed any paint with me on this trip. I wanted to make him something that had blue in it since that was his favourite colour. After walking a few more steps, I spotted a pile of fallen hydrangea flowers; a saturated blue against the grey of the pavement. Gently picking them up, I walked with the flowers cradled in my hand until I finally came across an empty patch of grass, shaded by the cracked trunk of a towering ancient tree.
I opened my sketchbook to a fresh page and pondered, if he was an animal what would he be? Instantly the image of a bird came to mind. When I think of him, the first thing that comes to mind is his voice. He was always capturing the attention of a room with his stories, jokes, and songs. Yes, he would be a bird, specifically an elegant crane; a picture of calm and poise.
In Eastern cultures, the crane is known as the prince of all birds and is an emblem of longevity, wisdom, and prosperity. Legends claim they live a thousand years and carry the souls of the dead into heaven, flying with the Gods and Immortals.
Once I had drawn the final strokes on the crane, I plucked four flowers from their stem and arranged them on the page by the feet of the crane. One flower for each of his grandchildren. I closed the sketchbook.
As we continued to walk through the trees over the next few hours, I found medicine in nature. The ancient forest was a powerful display of the natural cycles of life, death, and new life. There was an abundance of fallen trees, decaying branches, layers of moss, and new growths that sprouted from every surface.
When it was time to leave the forest, we took the path along a small freshwater lagoon. I peered through the tall grass, trying to get a closer look at the body of water. That’s when I spotted the crane. Perched on a curved log over the water's edge, its blue-grey feathers glinting in the late-afternoon sun.
