"When everything else has gone from my brain ... what will be left, I believe, is topology: the dreaming memory of land as it lay this way and that." Annie Dillard
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Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Community of Voters
Virginia was only one of four states to hold legislative elections yesterday, and when I reached the elementary school that serves as a polling place, an ethereal pale moon was rising in the sky.
Because there were no national races, experts predicted a low turnout. It was anything but the case in our precinct; I had to wait in line even to use a paper ballot. (For the first time ever, I wrote in a candidate's name — for the soil and water conservation board!) And polling officials said it was a steady stream of voters all day.
From a glance at this morning's paper, it's not clear whether our candidates won. What matters more is seeing how many people vote. I said hello to neighbors I hadn't seen in months.
I don't want to romanticize this too much. But sometimes on election day our precinct feels like a village, with small-town manners and courtesies and generosities. I wonder if, in different circumstances, on a different scale, we might be like this every day — a true community.