A Sense Of Wonder In A Pile Of Dung

I can say that life has been challenging, knowing that, in itself, is a euphemism for a bunch of crap. Making a living in California, where our sales tax is about 10% is very "challenging" to say the least.  Finding a job that is tolerable and perhaps, enjoyable, that pays more than $10 an hour, without benefits of course, is almost unheard of, to say the least.  Getting a job at all is like magic.  I wonder if things will ever be different here or anywhere post 2008.

So, enough said about the hardships though after a Roto Rooter bill to the tune of $337.50-what is the .50 for?-and a broken VCR, well making $10 an hour doesn't leave much else.  Groceries, utilities, dog food and gasoline round out the full spectrum.

I found my sense of wonder in the rising moon tonight, albeit viewed through the power lines, to be my own talisman.  I do try to find those things that make me wonder why I am here.  Sometimes it is the grandest sunset from our driveway or the stars at night over our old, freezing house or the about-to-be full moon. 

All of these images were fueled by a book that my mother had called "The Sense Of Wonder" by Rachel Carson.  I often looked through that book that my mother strategically placed on the coffee table.  For me, a child already too old for her years, it awakened who I was already in that painful childhood home. I was fascinated by the photography of the magic of nature.  I still feel that profoundly though I wonder, every day, why am I here and why is life so damn tough?

Finding that "sense of wonder" in a pile of crap is harder but never far from my grasp.  I feel fortunate to still have that desire and amazement of all that nature offers to us here on earth, struggling and not, rich and not, wise and not.  Thank you mother earth!