The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A lone, rusty plow lies abandoned in the middle of a vast, overgrown garden, surrounded by what looks like it was once a perfectly manicured hedge maze. Like, a family of rabbits is busy polishing the plow's blade using tiny, delicate cloths that seem to be made from dried flower petals, while a nearby beehive somehow hums along in perfect harmony with the rabbits' scrubbing motions. The air's warm and still, filled with the sweet smell of blooming flowers, and it's probably late morning judging by the sun's high position in the sky.