Birthday Flight!

Family of Flying

Oh the joy! I got to fly a helicopter for my Birthday :)) out of Camarillo Airport — not far from my native Malibu.

And a visit to the WWII Air Museum there prompted a memory I hadn’t thought of in years.

Is it possible? Could it be?

VariEze Aircraft, Camarillo

Outside the Museum hanger, parked on the tarmac, was a solitary white homebuilt aircraft. Perched there, awkward — looking sort of like a dolphin out of the sea.

Sharply pointed winglets.

Canard off the fuselage.

Pushed by a rear propeller.

A Burt Rutan VariEze experimental design.

VariEze Aircraft, Camarillo

Our tour guide described it as “Vintage.”

“In fact, it’s for sale,” he announced.

Is this one of the planes flown by Charlie, Joe and Mack, back in the late 80s? Over my Malibu home?


The memories flood my mind.

Suddenly I’m there again . . .

Here’s the memoir of these long-ago events, written in my Journal, a few years back.


Malibu Twilight

Charlie, Joe and Mack Malibu, 1980s

They used to fly over us

At the Yerba Buena house,

High up in the saddle of

Malibu’s Boney Ridge.


Three identical aircraft

Angular upswept wingtips,

Canard off the fuselage

Homebuilt VariEze crafts.


I would hear their engines’ familiar

Buzz and stop whatever I’d be doing

Race outside, drag out the kids,

Point and make a fuss . . .


Photo Credit: Wikipedia: By Stephen Kearney (Personal collection.)


I used to stand there, waving wildly,

Shouting out their newly assigned names —

“Hey Charlie! Joe! Mack!

How’s it going up there?”


“Beautiful day for flying!

What airport are you guys out of?

Camarillo? Oxnard? Santa Paula?

Where are you flying to today?”


My little kids thought it was great —

Certain that I knew them;

Happy to greet Mommy’s

Three ace flying friends.


Bellanca Beckons

Flashback — My Family Flying Roots

Suddenly I return to my flying roots —

No longer a new mom raising my daughters,

My horses, up a canyon in Malibu,

Strapped firmly to the earth.

Dad with an earlier plane.

Dad with an earlier plane.

Suddenly I’m there with my Dad —

I’m maybe twelve years old —

In the cockpit of his beloved

Beechcraft Bonanza . . .

V-Tail Beechcraft Bonanza — same style as Dad’s.

V-Tail Beechcraft Bonanza — same style as Dad’s.

My Dad, bigger than life —

Top Studio Musician,

Twentieth Century Fox

Orchestra by day —

My Dad (foreground, Saxophone) and my Uncle Lloyd (Trombone ) on the Carnation Plaza Gardens Bandstand at Disneyland.

My Dad (foreground, Saxophone) and my Uncle Lloyd (Trombone ) on the Carnation Plaza Gardens Bandstand at Disneyland.

Disneyland Bandleader by night.

(Hired by Walt Disney, himself.)

Commuting nightly in his own private plane —

While others sit stuck in traffic below.

That's Dad, Bill Elliott (Ulyate) next to Walt Disney, Uncle Lloyd, also in white coat, with Music Greats (Les Brown).

That’s Dad, Bill Elliott (Ulyate) next to Walt Disney, Uncle Lloyd, also in white coat, with Music Greats (Les Brown).

“My Dad works at Disneyland!!!

I’ve been to the Park dozens of times —

And we fly there in my Dad’s airplane . . . “

(No wonder the kids at school didn’t believe!)

Article about Dad commuting to Disneyland in his plane.

Article about Dad commuting to Disneyland in his plane.

To find out more about Dad and his music, go to my post, You Can Do ANYTHING!


And Dad’s love of flying came from

Grandfather, 1918, U.S. Army Air Service.

I can still see the framed black and

White photos hanging in the hallway

Grandfather Conway Ulyate, U.S. Army Air Service, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

Grandfather Conway Ulyate, U.S. Army Air Service, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

With Grandfather smiling proudly in a WWI-era biplane,

Wearing the very same leather flight helmet he left to me

(Along with his log books — fifty hours of meticulously

Documented flight: straight, level, spins, stalls . . . )

That's both Grandfather and Grandmother on a recruiting tour for the U.S. Army Air Service.

That’s both Grandfather and Grandmother on a recruiting tour for the U.S. Army Air Service.


Today, it’s just Dad and me, no older sisters or

Younger brother to share Dad’s love. We take off

From Oxnard, en route to Santa Monica —

Flying toward this same range of Malibu mountains.

Malibu Mountains, Zuma Beach and Point Dume.

Malibu Mountains, Zuma Beach and Point Dume.

I look down below at the magical shrunken

World that always happens flying with Dad —

A bird’s eye view that reveals little cars and houses,

Swimming pools and fences.


Roads and trails — straight and twisted.

Green cultivated fields, curving rows of orchards,

And tiny bushy trees like those along the miniature train tracks

At the Lionel Model Railroad store near Grandfather’s house.

Pilot Flying...

Then today, Dad hands me the controls and lets me fly.

“Hold it steady,” Dad instructs. Oh my gosh, I get to fly!

Looking out, it all seems different — I’m flying, the plane —

And doing a darn good job!


Suddenly, the plane begins to buffet. Shake.

Oh no, what have I done? Rattle! Shimmy! Skip!

Dad quietly flips the controls back to his side of the cockpit —

We’ve hit the mountain’s turbulent, unstable air.

Boney Ridge, Malibu

Dad chuckles and reassures me with that

Wonderful big laugh he always gives to Life —

Until his heart gave out, when I was sixteen,

And we buried him.


When Mom, in her shock, sold his saxophones

And his clarinets — sold his beloved Bonanza plane.

Sold the house, moved from Malibu —

And Dad and flight were lost . . .


Until I decided, a decade later, that

I could learn to fly, I would learn —

Like my Father and Grandfather

Before me — Palomar Airport.

Here I am, third generation pilot, with a Piper Tomahawk. (My Mom shot this pic.)

Here I am, third generation pilot, with a Piper Tomahawk. (My Mom shot this pic.)

I worked hard. Got my fixed-wing license in just three months.

Moved to San Luis Obispo — and for the next two years, rented planes and

Flew nearly 300 California hours in Cessnas, Warriors, Tomahawks,

From San Luis, to Van Nuys, to San Diego . . .

Landing Aircraft

Soaring like an Eagle — like a California Condor —

Looking down on emerald ocean inlets over Laguna,

Grassy farmlands with cattle tracks leading to

Water troughs in the Central Valley —

Snow on top of the Grapevine

Sugar-coated mountains over the Grapevine,

Sprinkled with a fresh coating of snow.

Talking to the tower, checking my altimeter,

Flying my craft with precision and pride, like all pilots . . .

Ready to Roll

Joining the ranks of those before — and after me,

Daring enough to take to the sky.

Dad and Grandfather,

Charlie, and Joe, and Mack . . .

Hawaiian Skies


Return to Malibu, 1980s

Returning to Malibu, back to when my kids were small

I’m out with the horses  and I hear . . .

Looking up, I see . . . Circling Sandstone Peak

Charlie, Joe . . .  wait a minute  just two planes now.

Malibu's Mountains -- Boney Ridge

“Hey Charlie, Joe, how’s it going up there?”

I point. I wave. I cry. My kids, so little,

They don’t know  can’t know why?

Something must have happened to Mack!


Emotions rise within me. Memories of my flying days — of

Dad and Grandfather — come racing back . . .

“Is Mack OK? Is his family doing well?”

Tears well up in my eyes.


We saw Charlie and Joe fly over a few more times — but never again with Mack.

Then we moved from the mountains, closer to the beach.

And throughout the years I’ve wondered the fate of my

VariEze, ace flying friends . . .


Red Acrobatic Pland


Island of Oahu, 2010

Now, two decades later, I listen to the roar of an

Acrobatic aircraft, practicing stunts —

Engine cranking, climbing . . . then fading, falling, spinning,

Here over Hawaii’s Lani Kai Beach.


And I think of Charlie, and Joe, and good ‘ol Mack,

And I wonder — are they still flying?

Are they soaring like an Eagle

Over the mountains somewhere?

Up in the Air!

Or are they now with Dad,

And Grandfather,

Soaring above the Rainbow —

Smiling each time an airplane flies by.


Running outside, dropping

Everything they’re doing,

Waving their hands wildly —

Welcoming the latest pilot home?

Circular Rainbow –  known as a Glory – made by an airplane when the shadow hit a cloud flying en route Honolulu to Molokai 2014 :))

Circular Rainbow – known as a Glory – made by an airplane when the shadow hit a cloud flying en route Honolulu to Molokai 2014 :))


VariEze Aircraft, Camarillo


Birthday Flight, Camarillo Airport

Yes! I’ve decided, this has to be one of their unusual, VariEze planes.

All these years later. On my Birthday.

The Rainbow Circle has returned to my Life :))

Backyard Rainbow

Emotions rise. Again.

But this time, smiles replace tears.

Yes! I feel them!

Dad and Grandfather — Charlie, Joe and Mack — smiling down on my Happy Birthday, Camarillo-Malibu Mountains, helicopter flying endeavor.

Helicopter in flight

As we rise above the tarmac, amidst the roar of the whirling blades — I think I even hear Dad’s wonderful, heart-felt laugh!


Birthday Flight


Copyright 2010, 2015


Like what you’ve read here? Please visit Dawn’s sister blog: Soul Horse Ride.

Noir napping :))

Meet ~ Red Star Noir ~ My 11th Newborn Foal!

This post, reprinted here from my sister blog, Soul Horse Ride, describes what I’ve been up to in recent days. I hope you’ll enjoy the story, the legacy, the accomplishment represented here :))  DawnSeeker

Red Star Noir ~ My 11th Newborn Foal!

Ah, the joys of new life!

My mare, Fae’s latest accomplishment: Red Star Noir — entered this world on August 19, 2014 — and as I now count, he’s my eleventh new baby foal!!!

Fae and Noir - first week

My newborn foals:

1 – AA Mentor – 1985

2 – Mentor’s Jewel – 1989

3 – Starboy – 1990

4 – Angel -1991

5 – Fanta’s Sir Prize – 1995

6 – Fanta’s Fae Dancer (aka Fanta’s Dancing Fae ) – 2001

7 – Maverick – 2007

8 – Aria – 2007

9 – Laddie (Aladin’s Bay Star) 2008

10 – Hokuleia – 2012

11 – Red Star Noir – 2014

Wobbly newborn Red Star Noir!


I remember as a kid, some time during junior high, the horse calendar that hung in my room. One month there was a picture of an adorable bay-colored Arabian colt, perhaps just two weeks old.

I remember looking and wishing and marveling at the beauty of his fresh life. I wondered what it would be like to hold him, pet him. Raise him, love him. And I decided: SOMEDAY, I’ll have a baby horse of my own!

I remember wondering: Would I really? How? How could that be possible?

But I tucked that wish away, along with my life-long desire to have, ride and love a horse of my very own.

And I went back to living my junior high life. Not knowing if either of those dreams would EVER come true.


Then, completely out of the blue one day, Mom made the announcement, driving alone with her in the car. (I remember it oh so well.  I was thirteen.)

Her voice cracked a little, and she said: “Dad and I have decided to get you a horse.”

What? Really? After all these years of begging??? Wahoooo!!! This is my dream come true!

I ended up with a scruffy unregistered strawberry roan, Heinz 57-Appaloosa/Arab mix named Rebel. Said to be seven years old, he’d been a family’s “trail horse”. He had a long nose, beautiful eyes and a swinging black tail.

Rebel was the perfect first horse for me. Rugged, rank — he challenged my limited skills and fulfilled my endless horse-addiction.

He became the focal point of my existence.

Rebel got me through the tough times, the lonely times, of junior high and high school. I LIVED for riding Rebel.

Through him I experienced freedom. Riding, flying, through the wilderness on wings of horsey joy.


Then, when I was sixteen, Dad passed away from a heart attack — changing EVERYTHING in my life — one fateful night.

“Honey, things are always changing. The sooner you get used to that, the better off you’ll be.”

Did Dad know something when he told me those words, just weeks before he suddenly passed?

Again, Rebel was my constant. My confidant. My outlet. My sanity. He was my freedom on four fabulously swift legs.

And I turned to him even more after losing Dad.

We would ride the Southern California mountain trails all day, every Saturday, The Doors singing “Come on baby light my fire . . .” from the transistor radio strapped to my saddle. Grit in my teeth, smile on my face, on and on and on, as far as we could go.

Yet after finishing high school, I began wondering about the reason for life.

What am I to do with my life? Why are we here? Where do we go after we leave this green Earth? Where is Dad now?

I dropped out of University and did what I’d often dreamed I’d do. I rode Rebel into the California wilderness on a ten-day, soul-searching, solo trek. Just me and Rebel.



My time alone in the wilderness toughened my determination. I overcame many obstacles, completing my “hero’s quest”, and I came back into civilization with new resolve.

I will live my life to the fullest. I will live as close to Nature as possible. I will pursue all my dreams!

Following my love for horses and animals, I worked teaching horseback riding, then milking cows on commercial dairy farms.

I chopped down trees, sewed canvass, built a Sioux Indian Tipi — and lived in it — as close to Nature as I could be!

Rebel lived outside the Tipi in the pasture with me, only a sheet of canvass between us.

Those were awesome times, living on the Earth, literally! With horses and cattle surrounding me. Until, eventually, Rebel aged and passed away.

Afterwards I had a brief stint with another horse, an Arabian mare I called Stargirl. But she met with tragedy, and I was horseless for a number of my mid-twenties years.

Eventually I went back to college, learned to fly airplanes, and started my own fashion business.


Now, I was in position to own a horse again!

So in 1980, I bought an Appaloosa yearling mare, named Fanta (Smokey Joe’s Fanta).

Little did I know when I was outbid on the original mare I’d come to buy at auction that day, that the understated roan filly I ended up purchasing would continue her legacy in my life — some three decades later!

(I definitely ended up with the better horse!)

Fanta’s combination of Appaloosa, Running Quarter Horse, Racing Thoroughbred, and (1/4th) Arabian gave her speed, endurance and silky-smooth gaits.

Her BIG trot, bounding canter, and animated walk made her a pleasure to ride.

After deciding to train her myself, and spending the next several years researching and accomplishing the task, I also ended up purchasing a purebred (in-foal) Arabian mare who soon gave birth to a beautiful, intelligent bay colt: AA Mentor.

I got my baby horse after all!

Under the lamplight, in the sweet smell of straw, breathing his fresh newborn scent, my baby horse dreams came true. Singing, cooing, rubbing his soft fur, I’d whisper of how we’d ride together, fly together — him carrying me, into the mountains, by the sea, over endless rolling hills . . . the wind rushing through our hair.

Holding him in my lap, Mentor filled my heart with not just love, but fresh purpose and perspective. Here was new life for a new future. A new portal to magical adventures ahead!

Although Fanta was six when Mentor was born, it was love at first whinny — and despite their difference in age, they became life-long mates.


Soon after Mentor’s birth, my life went through big changes. I, too, gave birth to my own baby girl, and then another . . .

And Fanta gave birth to Mentor’s babies, and she and I ended up raising our offspring together — horses and humans bonded like siblings.

I got another Tipi, living again on the Earth, with my babies, with my horses — even Nubian milk goats. Once again, close to Nature.

Completely magical!

Little kids and little baby horses romping, bucking, playing dress-up — inventing their own language, games, rules. My kids and Fanta’s — exploring life. Growing up side-by-side.

Eventually my kids grew taller, the horses matured, and we’d all ride together — wild rides through the wilderness. Horses and humans of the same herd — bonded, it would turn out, for generations yet unborn . . .

Noir - under Mom's tail


So now, long after my kids have moved out, long after Fanta and Mentor have passed — a new life enters my herd: Red Star Noir!

And get this — the timing, the beyond-coincidence planning of the Cosmos — born just three days after my first grandchild was born. :))

Oh Fanta, you and I, raising babies together again!

This one, yet another grand-colt. Born within days of my grand-daughter.

And we welcome you, Star Noir, to our family. To our herd.

And how sweet, how smart your half-Arabian nature. (Noir’s sire, an endurance Arabian.)

And now, once again,  I snuggle you. I breathe in your fresh baby scent . . . rub your fur, scratch your favorite itch spots. And I whisper sweet images of us riding together, flying together — you carrying me, like Fanta and Mentor before.

Nursing Noir


Long live Fanta’s legacy!

Long live Red Star Noir!

My lucky number 11!

One of the sweetest foals of my life thus far!

Noir itch


Copyright 2014

Looking Glasses

My Miracle Book

Here’s a Strategy I’ve been working with that’s helped me throughout the past several years — I call it My Miracle Book. Read along, and discover that you, too, have a Miracle Book to write.

Pull your Miracle Book out when the going gets tough — and read it over for fresh inspiration, motivation and a boost in faith.


Half Empty or Half Full?

It seems much of our experience in Life depends upon on our own unique, day-to-day perspective.

Are our lives half empty — or 98% full?

My artist friend, Tina, refers to our individual vantage-point in Life as wearing “Perspectacles” — a combination of perspective and spectacles. (She then draws a little pair of eye glasses illustrating the point :))

After all, we each see Life through our own unique viewing window.

And we all want to know: Will my Life work out? Will I make it? Can I find work, buy food, pay my bills, gas my car, keep my home and fulfill my obligations?

Recently it seems these necessities press even harder. And because of these great needs, because of long-term stresses, our minds can seem ready to snap . . .

We do our best.

We trust God.

We pray.

But in our moments of fear and doubt, our oh-my-gosh moments of true need — the car just broke, and I don’t have the money to pay for it — how do we know that God’s really here for us?

How do we bolster our faith?


Proof of God and Goodness in My Life

A few years back at a time like this, while asking myself these types of questions, I pushed — and demanded — proof of God and His goodness in my Life.

And I came up with the little journal that I now call: My Miracle Book.

It’s oh so easy to blame my troubles on a tight job market, on the economy, on my age or stage in life — yet half of Life is how I deal with what I’m dealt — how I control my obsessive mind which clings to negative circumstance and, like an endless loop, won’t let go.

In this instance, my mind just refused to cut me slack. And it got me thinking: I work with horses, and I know how to deal with them.

Yet what about my brain’s deadlocks, fears? How do I control this beast within?

So I decided, in searching for a Strategy — why not treat my panicky brain like an animal, like a horse?


Whoever Moves the Other Guy, Wins

In the animal world, it’s all about dominance.

With horses: “Whoever moves the other guy, wins.”

Whoever causes the other to lose ground and keep on the run, retains the upper hand.

Could it be, like the horse, these rules are ingrained deep into our brains, into our primal reptilian core?

If my brain moves me — my being, my emotions — into panic and fear: I lose.

If I move the brain, my brain — quiet it, flex it, make it lick, pivot, back down, like the horse: I win!!

Why not take control of that demonic stronghold that causes panic and fear in my Life — and let God, goodness, take the lead — and win!


Writing The Book

So I began My Miracle Book journal by writing the following:

“How do I know God’s real? Where’s my proof — since all my Life depends on this fact.”

* And I set out to supply my fearful mind with unshakable proof — examples of the miracles I’ve already received in Life. So that I could move my little frightened mind, and get it to yield to the Greater Good.

* I began by remembering a years-ago near-miss car accident (there seemed no way to avoid it). And I wrote a paragraph about that. Surely, that was a miracle. I didn’t die, didn’t get hurt, didn’t lose my income. Instead, the truck careening towards me somehow missed!!!

* And how about my children, and my husband, and the miracles they are in my Life.

* The legacy I received from Grandma and Mom and Dad, and all the goodness they taught and lived.

* My horses, my amazing Life adventures. Flying airplanes, travel, our beautiful home.

* And I realized there were other times I could have crashed, could have died — but was spared. And I wrote a bullet point and paragraph about each of those incidents: Horse accidents, carriage wrecks, hiking, cycling. Lightning strikes, falls, ocean incidents, more car accidents . . .

* Then I remembered times of healing and health miracles, both for myself and family members, and wrote them out.

* And financial miracles!!! Times of need when I received provision by completely unexpected means.

So I wrote and I wrote . . . fourteen pages of miracles, and I’ve been adding more, ever since.


My Conclusion

And after those first fourteen pages, I read them over, and wrote the following conclusion:

WOW!! I left more room for more stories — and I’m sure I’ll need even more room to tell ALL the proof I have that God is Real! And that is the only question I need to answer. Because if God is REAL, than I have all His promise for me, and NOTHING to fear. All shall truly work out! And He shall direct my path!!

* I know God is Real

* God talks to me

* God protects me (and those I love)

*God guides me

*God provides for me

* God heals me

* God reveals things to me

*God makes all things good!!

*God answers prayer

*God is on my side


But What, you might ask, about the Bad Things?

I have learned that All things work together for good — the good and the bad. And many of my testimonies of how God works miracles in my Life include seemingly bad things that ultimately work together for good.

Please see my post: The Assignment, Guide to Greater Happiness and be sure to read My Yoda Story.


More Miracles

Then, as time went on, I thought of more and more miracles: Synchronicities. Revelations. Intuition. Dreams. Visions. Near-misses. Manifestations.

* So I wrote bullet points and paragraphs about each new one I remembered.

* And then even more miraculous things and incidents came to mind.

* And now I realize, they are all around me! Big miracles. Small ones.

* And my gratitude has increased, and my faith has rebounded!

* And My Miracle Book is nearly full. And I know I’ll start another after this.

* And I look for miracles now. And I expect them.

* And I thank God for them, even before they have happened.

* And in time of need, I write my affirmation of thanks, and know that He shall provide for me.

* And He ALWAYS DOES provide the miracle!


Your Miracle Book

So now go and find yourself a pretty little blank journal.

Title it: My Miracle Book.

And start: Thinking.




And discover the rich miracles your Life contains.

Come to your own conclusions.

And then I hope you’ll let me know about the string of miracles your Life has become :))


Definition: Miracle


Date: 12th century
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin miraculum, from Latin, a wonder,
marvel, from mirari to wonder at
  • an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs
  • a extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment
  • Christian Science: a divinely natural phenomenon experienced humanly as the fulfillment of spiritual law

From print version Webster Dictionary, Copyright 1956:

  • an event or action that apparently contradicts known scientific laws and is hence thought to be due to supernatural causes, especially to an act of God
  • a remarkable event or thing; marvel
  • a wonderful example: as he is a miracle of fortitude


Final Thoughts

So I’m going with the ‘remarkable event or thing’ definition. And I’m in with the ‘all Life’s a miracle’ sentiment.

And the biggest surprise in writing My Miracle Book has been discovering that I cannot ever stop — the book is never truly done — because all of Life contains miracles, and all the miracles seem somehow connected.

Linked together.

And talking about one brings up another whole set of miracles.

And remembering them bolsters my faith.

And quiets my fearful mind!

Thank God!

:)) DawnSeeker :))

Tropical Reflections


Copyright 2014

White Horse in Green

You Gotta Wanna

I’ve been reflecting a lot on my Grandmother these days, as my daughter expects her first child, and I’m preparing to move into the first-time Grandmother role.

Through her wisdom and calm demeanor, Grandma Warby instilled values and confidence in me even beyond what my parents could. Let’s hope I succeed in carrying the tradition on :))


You Gotta Wanna 

Grandma had a saying

I still can hear her tell:

Talent alone won’t make you great,

But an inner quality will.

Holiday at Grandma's

She said: You gotta wanna,

What ‘ere you do in life —

And that your burning passion 

Overcomes obstacles and strife.

Hula Cousins

My Dad was a musician,

I thought I’d be one too.

But then I found I didn’t want

It bad enough, thank you!

That's me with my Breyer plastic horses in Grandma's back yard

That’s me with my Breyer plastic horses in Grandma’s back yard

My very first love was horses —

They filled my heart with joy.

I thought about them day and night

As if a favorite toy.


Whenever we’d drive by one,

I’d get all excited and shout:

“Oh mommy, there’s a horsey!”

My sisters wanted to throw me out!

Pink Horse

I day-dreamed during lunchtime

At junior high each day —

And finally my dad and mom

Got me a horse: Hurray!!!

Side Saddle (watermark)

So what do you s’pose I do in life?

I work with them each day.

Lots and lots of horses —

Chestnuts, grays and bays.

Shoeing Gear

I nail on the horseshoes.

I trim up the toes.

I make sure they’re balanced to

Stride their best where ‘ere they go.

Soul Horse Riding

And now all these years later,

What Grandma said holds true.

You really gotta wanna

For your dreams to come to you!

Self-shadow shot


Copyright 2014

(Vintage family photographs courtesy of cousin Andy)

Malibu Twilight

Gratitude Is . . .

In looking through my Journal I discovered this colorful, long-ago Gratitude List. I smile in reading it now — and hope you will do the same.  :))   DawnSeeker

Gratitude Journal

Gratitude is a wavelet glinting aqua kaleidoscopes in an endless sea.

Gratitude is a cottonwood leaf dancing in the morning breeze.

Gratitude is a tall cloud, puffy white and gray, tinged with pink at the end of the day.

Gratitude is a nicker from your favorite horse. And her soft muzzle in your hand.

Gratitude is a healing balm that melts away life’s sorrows.

Lani Kai Cloud

Gratitude is getting out of bed in the morning.

Gratitude is doing something for someone else.

Gratitude permeates God’s being.

Gratitude is God’s gift to mankind.

Gratitude is a recipe for making it through a challenging day.

Gratitude is a hug that makes it all better.

Grateful Squirrel

Gratitude is always an option. Today, now, and forever.

Gratitude moves the mountains of stubborn resentment.

Gratitude is what your Grandmother was trying to tell you about.

Gratitude is requisite to living.

Gratitude works miracles.

Gratitude pays the bills.

Gratitude is life’s greatest gift.

Waimanalo Sunset

Gratitude exudes forgiveness.

Gratitude saves face.

Gratitude beats unemployment.

Gratitude is more valuable than gold or gasoline.

Gratitude opens a door to the infinite.

Gratitude lets light in.

Cloud Shadows

Gratitude precedes daybreak.

Gratitude is a verb.

Gratitude really works.

Gratitude heals.

Gratitude beats the Stock Market.

Gratitude tastes better than Starbucks.

Gratitude is free.

Fall Leaf Shadow Bells

Gratitude is a no-brainer.

Gratitude accesses the God-realm.

Gratitude washes away emotional pain.

Gratitude outlasts hatred.

Gratitude annihilates resentment.

Gratitude is counter-intuitive.

Kaunakakai Wharf Sunrise 3-05

Gratitude opens a window to heaven.

Gratitude is shade to the sunlight of a parched desert.

Gratitude is what’s left when all else fails.

Gratitude soothes the greatest sorrow.

Gratitude gives life meaning.

Gratitude clears the clouds of a foggy day.

Malibu Fog

Gratitude solves life’s greatest challenges.

Gratitude spells contentment.

Gratitude lives.

Gratitude gives.

Gratitude loves.

Gratitude is.


Draft Horses

Gratitude is a hoof galloping soundly.

Gratitude cure’s life’s ills.

Gratitude is a magical elixir.

Gratitude spells success.

Gratitude overcomes sorrows.

Gratitude makes life worth living.

Gratitude creates goodness.

Up in the Air!

Gratitude is the starting place on life’s runway.

Gratitude is where we begin to grow up.

Gratitude is what your mom really meant.

Gratitude feeds the hungry.

Gratitude makes a bad hair day work.


Gratitude fixes your wardrobe.

Gratitude is a steaming cup of coffee on a cold day.

Gratitude is sitting in front of a wood fire.

Gratitude is a spring meadow of wildflowers.

Gratitude is a mountain stream gushing past aspen trees.

Gratitude is being together with family.

Gratitude is friendship.

Gratitude never fails.


Morning Glory


Copyright 2008, 2014


Tree Face :))

Enjoy this Trio of poems that tie together the aloneness we all face in Life — and the opportunities we have to share and spread good cheer. Party on! :))


Oh, you better learn to love

being by yourself

For most of life is spent

all Alone . . .


In your own company,

like it or not —

With your own commentary

along Life’s path.


And really, that’s not

so bad as one would think —

Because you are, indeed,

creative and kind —


You look and see

where you can help,

And rise-up to make

this World a sweeter place . . .


So learn to love

being by yourself

And be creative and kind

to your own self, too!


Molokai Egret Preening


To your self, say good things,

As you do with those you treasure —

Words of encouragement

And cheer . . .


Treat yourself to little

Surprises, and be

Generous with yourself,

To yourself, for a change!


And stop grumbling!

Start enjoying Life :))

And enter the flow of

Life’s Grand Design.


Accept yourself,

Improve yourself,

Love yourself,

Give of yourself . . .


Rubber Duckie

I Bring My Own Party

I bring my own Party

to my Life, to my travels —

Because I know, full well,

there might not be one!


Unless I bring the open heart,

the reaching out, the cheer . . .

Someone else might have forgot —

and normalcy might reign.


Zombie-eyed worker-bees

mutely trudging through the

Doldrums, carrying on.

Another dollar. Another day . . .


And what an opportunity

missed, by my not thinking

Forward enough to embody

what’s needed to rise


Above the ordinary in Life

and bask in the spontaneity

Of Wow! Right Now!

Laughter. Sharing. Joy.


I’m ready, yes, to give:

Horseshoe nails (they bring good luck!),

Belgian chocolate, a little book,

mountain honey, tropical soap . . .


Warm words of humor, and praise —

some quirky banter, a complement,

A small philosophical chat, some

Kind of interaction and exchange . . .


And this keeps my Life

fresh, and this expands my

Circle of friends — mini-parties,

many exchanges . . .


And this balances

my times Alone —

Laughter, Uplift,

Party on! :))


Gas Cap Heart


Copyright 2014


Silhouette Bell

“Heaven’s bells and Angel’s wells
Can in our Hearts be had.”  ~ DawnSeeker

Ring The Bell!

Here’s a little ritual I’ve done for many years:  When something Good happens, I ring a bell! Cow bells, large and small. Jingle bells. Hand bells. Hanging bells . . .

Enjoy this little poem about the magic released by this small, humble act.


Hummingbird Bell


Heaven’s Bells!

When ‘ere a Good thing happens,
I like to ring a bell!
So something Good gets recognition
Just for being swell.

All kinds of chatter follows
Those things that are bad.
But when a Good thing happens,
We must show just how glad

We are Good joined us —
And dropped in for a spell.
Heaven knows there’s far too much
Attention paid to hell!


I have my own collection of bells
In every size.
I love to hear them dance and sing,
And promptly come alive.

It’s like they open Heavens doors
Every time they ring —
And Angels reach and clap their hands
Every time they sing.


So get yourself a little bell —
Keep it close at hand.
And when a Good things happens,
Shake it something grand.

And then you’ll hear them singing:
Angels from on high.
Every time you ring your bell
You’ll feel the Angels nigh!

So grab your bell and ring it —
Of this I ‘m very glad.
Heaven’s bells and Angel’s wells
Can in our Hearts be had.

Shadow Bell


Copyright 2014