December gazes at the dove-grey deco front of Myers. Faces search for their next purchase, weighed down already with purchases. To avoid cliché of Christmas windows, eyesight seeks a calm place to rest. The beautiful curves of Moreton Bay figs mean little to the queues lining up for snow and jingle bells. Their branches describe ancient fractals, their leaves remember heavy rains, rains before the tree was born. Higher still, attention is drawn to the slight breeze that, on this hot day, moves the flags ever so on top of Myers. Frayed and faded they haven’t been changed in years.