On Signs and Rabbits

A witty sign spotted at the Farmers' Market.

And meanwhile feast your eyes on the hibiscus I just planted.

In view of the burgeoning and utterly brazen rabbit population, you're unlikely to see them flowering again in your lifetime. The rabbits have decimated the Mexican petunias, which are supposed to be indestructible and eaten all the yellow blooms on the perennial (sic) small petunias, while leaving the pink ones untouched.  They hop around shamelessly in broad daylight and are afraid of nothing and nobody, even the garden hose at full blast.
  While we were up north during the summer, my neighbour tells me a coyote took up residence on our doorstep, snoozing happily. Fat lot of use he was.
  But gardening in Florida has one dubious advantage. Observe the sandy soil. Unlike in western New York, where you're wrangling clay and rocks all the time (no wonder those all farmers downed shovels and headed west) you can dig Florida soil with a teaspoon. How much use it is at growing flowers remains to be seen. Thanks to the rabbits, I'll probably never get the chance to find out.