A rope of braided yellow hair tumbles from the tiny window atop William Barrie's 1853 Scots-German gothic, now out-of-plumb clock tower, which is Prince Albert's Memorial, in what is deemed to be Belfast's Cathedral Cultural Quarter.
Another yellow object, a 16-foot-high painted wooden chair, is tilted backwards, leaning by Albert's Bridge, where, in the water, there floats a huge hand, made by Kevin Brankin, clutching a cigarette and wearing a ticking sports-watch.
The hair, a construction by Helen Lessick, suggests Rapunzel, the chair Fionn McCool; perhaps even the hand is Ulster's defiant red and gory one, thrown from an invader's boat, as in the legend.
Under dark trees in the Royal Botanic Gardens it seems that the six-foot-high shark's fin has left its curling wake through the cropped grass as its Jaws-scale owner burrowed up from the Lagan to check into the Ulster Museum's Undersea Display.
Thirty-seven such diversions cheer up the city, as sculptors from Seattle's Horsehead International join with local artists to prove that art is fun, that sculptures should be made in a workmanlike fashion to demonstrate that artists are workers, too, and to put forward the proposition that simple neighbourhood pieces can mean more to the men, women and children in the street than works by a famous artist they've never heard of.
Many of the exhibits are biodegrading as you read this. Others are obscurely sited and rarely labelled. Even the publicity leaflet is imprecise, as the project's organiser, Matthew Lennon, favours anonymity.
Citywide, Belfastwide, until time takes its toll.