After the pass earlier this morning I sat on the tower for some time, listening to the birds, writing my weather note. Looking at the images, I often feel it's strange how my ears can filter so much of the static: I could hear NOAA-15 for much longer than the image might suggest. Watching the pips of yellow on CubicSDR's waterfall display, it was clearly weaker than I was expecting. I'm left wondering if it was the effect of the antenna, or if the satellite was starting to power down. Ross appears from the small blue door at the top of the spiral staircase. We figure we might as well take down the v-dipole from the balustrade, and unwind the RF cable from the staircase. When that's done it's not long until this pass. Ordinarily I wouldn't bother with such a low pass (usually saying 'it'll come back around') but I decide to have one last listen with the turnstile to say farewell to NOAA-15.

NOAA-15 is coming from the north, reaching a max elevation of 13 degrees to the north west, which is pretty much exactly where the lightning rod is. So between that and the previous image my expectations are low for clarity, but that's not and is never the point. After the joys and buzz of passes on the beach with friends and the summer festival, being up here alone feels peaceful. I'm happy to pick up an intermittent signal amid the noise, moving my body with the trajectory of the satellite, searching with the antenna for one last time.

On my way out I chat to the Hospitalfield team about endings, archives, and memory – and although there will be no new images from these satellites, still orbiting silently, there's lots of reflection to come.