The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A lone donkey's casually plodding around the middle of a pretty big Buddhist monastery's central courtyard, its little hooves clicking against the stone floor. The air's still, with the sweet scent of incense and old wood, and a warm sun beats down on the whole scene, casting long shadows behind the donkey. Like, the sound of gently running water comes from somewhere, probably from that small pond over by the far wall... where a bunch of carefully placed river rocks are somehow precisely balancing on top of each other, completely defying gravity. Umm, a few birds fly lazily overhead.