Rice Paddy Fields

Endless fields are stacked precariously on top of each other. Each ledge steep, but not high enough to get hurt if you were to fall. The fields have been scrupulously planted. Hundreds and hundreds of rows of rice, each plant placed the same exact distance apart, never touching the one in front nor the one in back. Don’t bother wasting your time to count them, the fields seem to stretch on for ages. So much so that you have to squint in order to see the pavilion at the center of the zen garden. The ground under your feet is boggy and wet, but sturdy enough to keep your footing without slipping. The air is damp and carries an odd mixture of mud and rice. Abandoned tools to maintain the field are scattered about, some rusted, some still pristine. This area seems harmless enough, but what secrets might it hold?