The past week has brought transitions: geographical, professional and personal alike.
After three years in Durham I relocated to Aberdeen – no mean feat given the competitiveness of the housing market.
It was touch and go that I would be curling up under my desk and showering in the Department of Geography and Environment, or camping on the beach.
Mercifully, a roof was found and ever more, in the vicinity of the office, beach and town.
Joy all round, then.
Yesterday we escaped swathes of masking tape for swathes of sea spray and walked to the Donmouth Nature Reserve, near to the site of Trumpgate.
After casting a few evil eyes over the dunes, I saw my first seals, each taking turns to dunk one another under the placid waves.
On the way, we passed a yogi practising surya bhedana on the sea wall, seemingly oblivious to the biting wind.
Darting past, jet-skiers soared into the blue as fishing trawlers hovered above the horizon in an illusionary suspension.
The silence, broken only by seagulls, presents a welcome change to the wailing of sirens and the ambiance is one of calm, tranquillity and progress.
Then it was mostly indignant rage.
But as it would be an epic spoiler to continue, I shall leave it there and think happy yoga thoughts.