After the big one, there was plenty of housing to be had. Me and my family (my family and I?) had our pick of places. Nice, tidy, snug piles of fallen limbs and dead leaves to keep out the winter cold. We settled into the first place, set about beefing up our brood when lo, seemingly out of nowhere, the young ones disappeared one by one. It happened so swiftly, before me and little lady could even name them. I set about finding us a new home. This one was the very definition of perfect — rich with nooks and crannies made from fallen branches, dried leaves and the occasional acorn or nut. And again family members went missing. It occurred to me that this new bonanza in the housing stock was maybe a death trap for our kind. So, I moved us to a cold, dank nest at the bottom of a compost heap and settled in for a long uncomfortable winter. Turns out the dry, leafy places are actually for the birds.