The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A lone cow's hide is being perfectly groomed as she stands by a worn stone trough filled with water in a small, old farmyard, the late morning sun casting a warm glow over everything. Like, her coat's really shiny now, but there are no brushes or grooming tools around. Umm, somehow the sound of splashing water from the trough syncs up perfectly with the rhythmic creaking of an old wooden gate gently swinging open and closed in the breeze, even though the air's pretty still. The smell of hay and damp earth hangs in the air.