I'm over at the water tower again, with its dishes and antennas that I wonder the purpose of. It's not the best spot in terms of obstacles but it's quite high and the sky is open to the south west (trees, water tower). It's a warm evening, a summer glow cast over the pond and out towards the seafront. In the tall grass are a few blue corn flowers in front of me, a patch of purple thistles and yarrow. Sky full of gulls, swallows and wood pigeons. We're at a bench, which is covered in ants, it transpires, some with wings. We talk about the myth of 'flying ant day'. The weather is favourable for this particular colony to emerge (warm and calm). Aaron has come with me on account of it 'maybe being the last time' to listen to NOAA-15. I didn't know that the last time listening to NOAA-19 would be on Saturday, at the end of the summer festival. Tried to listen to NOAA-19 this morning. Dead air. Tonight, more of a fuzz than expected but happy just to hear the familiar sound pass over as the sun sets.