This is a wonderful little story (see I am not always harsh when it comes to Children's books) about two birds who decide that they no longer like their old house (or at least the woman doesn't, the man is perfectly happy to sit on top of his house and sing his song all day about how his nest is the best nest) and go on a quest to find a new house. However every house they find is either occupied (by a foot, or some letters) or has hidden traps (such as the steeple tower). What is interesting is that this book, unlike others, has a story to it, and flows like the typical story.
Basically they start off with a goal, and when they think they have achieved that goal something bad happens and Mr Bird is wondering around the town, and at the darkest point in the story the clouds gather and it starts to rain. However, quite by luck, though not to the extent that you would call it a <i>deus ex machina</i>, the problems are solved and everybody ends up living happily ever after.
I guess the theme of this story is that there is no place like home. At the beginning one of them becomes sick of her home and wants something better, however it turns out, at the end, that the best place was actually the place that you originally started from. However the thing that comes down to this realisation is that sometimes you have to lose something because you realise the value of that something in the end. Here it is that the best home was in their original home.
That is not always the case though because I moved 700 km from where I grew up to a new city, and now, on my second visit back to Adelaide this year I have come to realise that I actually miss my new home. Granted I like being around my parents, but I guess I have reached that age (at least with our Anglo-saxon mindset) where I prefer the independence of my new home, and also the friendships that I am beginning to build. However, I suspect that there may have been other reasons above and beyond Mrs Bird's reason for wanting a new home that caused me to move interstate.