I love my job. Where else does one get paid for roaming around 10 acres of land gazing upon the color variations in the far off mountains, observing the rare Vegas clouds engulf the distant city in white, listening to nature’s sounds, admiring the cows and horses lazily feeding in the neighboring fields, feeling the crisp, invigorating winter air breeze by, experiencing the city’s encroachment onto land once trod only by horses and cows and, oh yes, taking inventory of carelessly discarded items scattering the pristine land and smelling the horse manure illegally dumped on soil desperately needing fertilizer but not by this means. I love my job.