28 March 2024 (primary results)

primary results . . .

the steady drumbeat

of spring rain

12 October 2023 (election signs)

election signs

clutter the median . . .

shape-shifting clouds

13 November 2022 (news)

between the news

and my crossword puzzle

election night

9 November 2022 (election results)

election results . . .

the tamarack tree

shares its gold

4 November 2020 (election)

election night

the free world saved one more time

by James Bond

November 7: At the community garden

Day before election.
Watching robins eat berries
in full sunlight.

November 5: We vote at the firehouse in my hometown

Big Dipper's handle curves
above hulking fire trucks,
all those cast ballots.

November 6: Election Day

Unless you've been living as a hermit in a cave for the past six months or more, you cannot have escaped the intrusive media frenzy that is election season. Now the day of reckoning is upon us. I voted early via absentee ballot, so did not participate this year in what I usually find to be a heartening community event, greeting friends and acquaintances in the fire station as we wait in line to carry out our civic duty. Even the town ballot issues seemed divisive this year. But in a way I wish I'd waited to vote in person, because instead of having at least that morning uplift of playing my tiny role in the democratic process, I've been anxious all day long hoping things turn out OK on the local, state, and national levels.

Only the birds coming to my feeder have provided adequate distraction. I'm trying a new bird seed and they seem to like it. A nuthatch returned several times, as did a female cardinal. And a squirrel made a few failed attempts to scale the building to reach the feeders. I got up and watched it for a while after it gave up and foraged in the grass for spilled seed instead. The sun shone on its fur, illuminating a pretty orange streak down its gray back. Its flippant tail looked invitingly soft. For a few moments, I simply admired that squirrel and didn't worry about a thing.

Election day anxiety.
Not to be a squirrel,
but to have such simple desires--