IT'S A CRUEL WORLD. This morning. I raised the shades and saw five huge crows stomping around on the street, hopping about and pecking the roadway. One rabbit chased after them as best she could. Then I saw the flattened fur that had drawn the dark birds' attention. I knew it was her baby and my buinny elf. One of them, at least. Since then, no chrming little faces have peered out from the backyard hosta leaves. Life. Beauty. Death. That's all there is to say.