No.2 is hanging around and squarking at me for food. He's decided this freedom thing is good for a lark but I'm not a lark* dammit, so feed me now! The trouble is he calling at me from the top of the sycamore, and since I'm not a lark either he'll have to come down to my level. The three little ones are happy in their new big cage. They can stretch their wings and flap without hitting bars and each other. It looks like being a good day.
*I hate to tell him this, but the alternative name for peewees is "mudlark"