The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A small bunch of chickens are pecking at grains scattered around an old wooden threshing machine, which is somehow steadily running by itself, its worn leather belt creaking with a gentle, repetitive motion. The air's warm and still, filled with the smell of hay and a hint of smoke from a distant chimney. Like, the late afternoon sun is shining across this rural farm scene, casting a golden light on the rustic wooden fences and old equipment scattered around. A small bird is quietly perched on a nearby water pump, which is somehow steadily pumping water into a nearby trough.