The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A small, decrepit boat's lodged in the branches of a massive sequoia tree, about halfway up its trunk. Sun's shining directly on it, casting a bright glow on the moss-covered wood, and the air's thick with the scent of damp earth. Seagulls are just wandering around on the branches like it's nothing, leaving little feathers and scraps behind them, while the sound of gentle water lapping against the tree's base is somehow coming from... up above. Water's just... flowing upwards from the trunk, forming a slow, gurgling waterfall into the air, and, like, seagulls are drinking from it mid-air.