The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Baroque organ pipes sprout out of the middle of a dry, salt lake bed... The air's crisp and still, smells like ozone-free dry air. Umm, in the distance, I can hear the rumbling sound of an avalanche that somehow never moves any closer or further away, just remains at the same constant volume, and above, the sky's a brilliant blue with no sun in sight. Like, it's definitely daytime, but no shadow's being cast anywhere, as if the light is radiating from all directions simultaneously.