Bold proclamations of hopes and dreams lined thoroughfares, temporary two-dimensional placards fronting the casual brilliance of the natural environment.  Fall marked a curious passage, one of transition to dormancy for some creatures untamed, to urgent retreat southward for others of global reach.

For the human kind, for the ones who altered land in ways unrecognisable to those who occupied the space centuries before, debates raged and tongues wagged.  People of different opinion squared their ground to lines in the sand, insisting on the rightness of their outlook.

Participants paraded their ideas for the deciding class, hopeful of a final sway.  Gumming up the works, four in ten lay beyond their reach, either incapable of casting a choice or indifferent to the positions offered, deemed of no effect in the day-to-day living of their lives.

Of three hundred and ten million, a curious thing played out in the days between elections.  Multi-directional judgements flew on the wings of opinion, barbed and aimed.  Many of the critiques emanated from those who viewed a ballot with the same reverence as a fresh deposit of human excrement.  They wished neither touched their hands.

For those who carried the enabling sanction of American citizen through the gateways of rising ballot blocks, if not cast already, throw down a ballot by Tuesday night, in the right place, marked with the selections of your choice.

You can figure out where I stand.  Earn your right to bitch.