winterless

It's the middle of November, and the trees still have their leaves. Insects thrive in this warm moist space. We have fossils from the age of the reptiles. We live in the age of the mammals. Is the age of the insects coming next? Eons from now will a sentient insect archeologist dig through the fossilized ruins of Los Angeles and discover the dinosaur bones in the Natural History Musuem? Ah, but these speculative musings distract me from siezing the moment in this age of mammals. While the planet's temperature supports us warm blooded, live birth givers, I've work to do. I've a machine to define, politicians and money lovers to lambast. I believe I'll start with a cup of coffee.