The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Echo, a dense swarm of monarch butterflies surrounds me, their orange wings beating rapidly as they envelop a vintage, rusty water pump, which is somehow pumping water in reverse, pulling it up from a small, still pond into a tall, cylindrical tank. Umm, the air's crisp, like it's early morning, and the sun's casting a warm glow on the butterflies, with a gentle breeze rustling the nearby reeds. The air smells sweet, like honey and milkweed, and I can feel the humidity rising from the pond. Echo.