The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, worn concrete pillars hold up a highway overpass in the middle of a dense cornfield, with the sun at a 45-degree angle in the sky. Umm, the air's dry, and the only sounds are the soft creaking of the concrete and the gentle rustling of cornstalks swaying in the breeze. For some reason, all the kernels on the ears of corn are aligned perfectly with the direction of the sun, and as the sun moves, they shift together to maintain this alignment. The smell of damp soil and green growth fills the air.