Work returns to its normal routine of project work and chocolate cake, juggling numbers and making cups of tea. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Your man here was quite out of the ordinary with his big branch, scratching concentric circles (not a spiral. I watched for a while to see if it was a spiral or circles) in the ground where a big bit of Princes Street Gardens is still waiting to be returfed after the Christmas fair. I suppose it needs to wait til the ground warms up or new turf would just die. Still, drawing circles in the park, his concentration on his circles and his movement, the way he held his head, his air of Rain Man, made it all a little odd. Harmless but odd.

It was either this guy or another who was standing outside one of the gallieries with headphones on and singing at the top of his voice. But not, as far as I could tell, looking for money or singing anything with any significant meaning. Just singing acapella. Quite a good voice but slightly strange that he was neither proselytising nor busking. I didn't photograph him. He seemed too caught up in it to be disturbed and it was a long song. He could have been making it up as he went along.