The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A covered horse-drawn wagon's sitting by the edge of a quiet village pond, its canvas top folded back, revealing bundles of freshly picked vegetables. The air's warm and humid, with a sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the late morning sun casts dappled shadows across the water. Like, a pair of beavers is somehow operating a small, hand-cranked water pump, effortlessly lifting buckets of water from the pond up to a nearby garden, where a group of rabbits is tending to the crops. Umm, a wooden fence nearby appears to be repelling a group of hungry deer that are literally bouncing off it.