I watch a small urban rabbit every morning in the spring. From my bedroom window I witness him grazing on the crocuses that I planted. When I approach him he jumps casually away from me, and waits. I suppose it is odd that I love to plant flowers and happily see them devoured because I love to see the rabbit more. I have not seen those crocuses bloom for more than one day in the past two years, but the little rabbit is there every morning.