The Brisbane Eye lights up in the night, always moving, compartments empty of foreign patrons. Born and bred city dwellers sleep in humid bedrooms. Sweat dripping off sun-stripped walls. They’ve never seen the city from such heights and they don’t need to. How can a bird know the city any better than the pock-marked stones of the sidewalk: the relief in a patch of shade, four am sunlight from raised carparks, the Tivoli at night.