The Outlook Is Sunny

“On a sunny day at the start of spring, everything looks lovely” I thought, as I crossed St. Peters Square, admiring the budding trees tastefully arranged in front of the handsome buildings. This vision of perfection was short-lived, however, as my eye was drawn to the spattering of chewing-gum trodden into the newly-laid flagstones. Clearly, not everyone cares about the aesthetics of paving but still, a question remains: how come there is so much discarded gum when I never see anyone actually chewing it or spitting it out? It’s a mini-mystery. (Another thing that occurs to me about chewing-gum is that the hyphen is all that distinguishes the noun from the verb - though not in America.)

I was on my way to buy a few geraniums to replace the ones that had not survived the winter, the warm sunshine having lured me into the yard to inspect the condition of my potted plants. Geraniums were readily available at the plant stall but the lady was at a loss when I asked her for something that might thrive in a shady corner. "They all like sun at this time of year", she said. I contemplated - briefly - an imitation plant.

Two days before, and in indifferent weather conditions, I had been at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, a place which is always inspiring but is better experienced on a sunny day. Unfortunate timing, perhaps, but the daffodils brightened the otherwise colourless landscape and there were indoor exhibits to enjoy as well as the sculptures exposed to the elements. Currently there are gigantic pieces by an artist known as KAWS - a name which is as memorable as his work. It seems he used the “tag” when he was making graffiti art and has stuck with it - an astute branding decision and one which the Yorkshire Sculpture Park itself might learn from. Proud though it may be of its association with Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth, Yorkshire, by claiming title to the Park, lumbers it with a provincial tag which does not do justice to the international reputations of the artists shown there. How about the more alluring Bretton Hall Sculpture Park? Such a name might intrigue a wider audience.

And, on the subject of intriguing names, I had also been to see a couple of films, Dheepan and Victoria, both of which had me riveted to the seat. But, if I had not seen the trailers, I might not have been tempted to buy tickets: their curiously modest titles give no hint of the drama they portray.

Anyway, with the season changing, it feels like I should prepare to spend time outdoors rather than in the cinema. Exposure to the sun is not only good for city trees and potted plants, it is also beneficial to one’s health (in moderation). In fact there is a word for it, which I came across for the first time when I was recently in Sardinia: heliotherapy. At one of the many beaches there was a notice board instructing visitors not to wind-surf and to beware of heliotherapists which, even allowing for wonky translation, seemed to embody a warning that naked, rampant therapists  - possibly from Germany - might be touting for business among the dunes. At another beach, the notice which forbade the removal of flora and fauna also urged visitors to refrain from heliotherapy because of an absence of “rescue services”. Here, I imagined, was the place where pale-skinned English tourists, mistaking over-zealous sunbathing for heliotherapy, habitually roasted their hides and had to be airlifted to hospital. My own heliotherapy is more likely to involve sitting at a pavement café, contemplating the mystery of discarded gum - and whether a sculpture might look well in that shady corner.