From Edinburgh I travelled to Ross-shire, which was all gloriously decked out in Spring yellow: wild gorse, semi-cultivated daffodils (thousands), and farmed rapeseed fields as far as the eye could see.
We watched a strange winged fish in Ullapool harbour dawdle in the oil-streaked waters, and bought fish and chips in Golspie to eat by the side of the Loch.
The air rang with birdsong. 'It's never winter here, oh no!'. they trilled, saturating the soundscape with a multitude of melodies.
We bought ice cream at the 1950s cafe in Strathpeffer, and sat on a bench to eat it, warmed by the Highlands sunshine.
I came home to a flood of emails, but I read the week's newspapers with the remaining relaxation lest it leave me too soon.