But within its confines, the Arbour had lived on. The original steel tendrils had been replaced more than once, the trellis cables replaced by highly focused gravity generators so that the canopy appeared to float, seemingly unsupported, in the air, but it would have been immediately recognisable to anyone who had lived when it was placed two and a half centuries prior. More than that, the Arbour had “grown” outwards, the original canopy of bougainvilleas supplemented by selected native plants, all sorts of new cultivars, and even a few of the hardier extraterrestrials spreading outwards over the disappearing roads and quieting offices of what had once been the noisy, busy, grimy commercial precinct of #GreyStreet. Looking up, one could see another canopy above the Arbour, a living roof through which a softened afternoon light shone, dappled, not quite like anywhere else in the old city. At ground level, a few people dined in the sidewalk cafes, but the mood was calm, sedate.