A few weeks ago, on a chilly Friday, I resumed my daily exercise walk down a city sidewalk. The late afternoon sun had become cloud-ridden, seeming to produce only light instead of heat. Perhaps there was heat up there somewhere, but none of it seemed to be making its way through to me. It kind of seemed like spring was playing it safe, afraid to commit.

The sun seemed to have mastered the lightning bug’s art (biology) of cold luminescence.

Some clouds made the sun’s light “flicker,” but with much slower frequency than that of the analogous “glowworm.”

I passed the yard of one retired physician whose talent as a diagnostitian is matched by the meticulous care of his lawn. Although he wasn’t an eye specialist, the observing passerby finds his eye treated by that beautiful, green scene.

The doctor is an acqauintance, and as I strolled past, I saw the top of a familiar gray head above shrubbery adjacent the front porch. An associated hand went up and a voice hailed me over. It was the doctor, seated on his front porch. He informed me that he was on the lookout for his son who was driving home from college. I told him of similar waiting in earlier years for my daughter Rachel and son Jeremy.

The good doctor’s wife is enamored of rabbits (for aesthetic reasons, not culinary), and had recently placed another stone rabbit statue in their yard. Its ears are slender and perpendicular (nothing “flopsy” about them), reminiscent of the jackal-headed Egyptian God, Anubis, the Guide of the Dead (“rabbit” version).

When I remarked upon this, the doctor invited me in to see something. As I came up on the front porch, I saw “rabbit” candle holders on porch tables and remarked about them as well, to which the doctor replied “Mack, the rabbits are everywhere!”(He used an expletive modifier of the word “rabbits,” but I censored it myself, saving the Post the trouble.)

Inside, I beheld a dining room table set with “rabbit” china. Each plate had a rabbit depicted in a different pose, no two alike. One even appeared to be crawling onto a plate from underneath, giving a three-dimensional effect. Anyone eating their peas and carrots off of one of these plates might find himself subconsciously considering the “competition” and consume them more quickly.

There were also sculpted “rabbit napkin rings” and a “rabbit vase,” its multi-lined surface giving the impression of mosaic.

I then looked into a china closet where the most perfect crystal bunny sat in bunny fashion. This bunny, not of utilitarian purpose like the others, could have filled the bill of an object of worship in some ancient culture, like the legendary “crystal skull” (also of Indiana Jones fame).

Having to get back to my exercise, I thanked the doctor for his “rabbit tour” and resumed my walk toward the direction of the “cold sun.”

Some city blocks farther on, I reached my turn-around spot, heading back on my reverse walk. Through the chance of when my stroll began and when I reversed it, I was able to see the doctor greeting his son, who had arrived at what he calls home, but which I will always refer to as “The Kingdom of the Crystal Bunny!”