Shepard Collins

Entry of Shepard Collins, student of atmospheric science and paleoclimatology, four year degree program.

December 10th, 2400 hours.

Following yesterday's entry, I've yet to come in contact with anything conclusive. Currently, I've reallocated my focus toward minimizing signal confluence with other nearby LPFM stations. Though, for the sake of my pride, I'd hardly call this arrangement low power.

Combining my area of study with my ongoing scientific focus, I've decided to combine the two. Now, to those unfamiliar, a central concept in radio meterology is the radio refractive index; in principle, the atmosphere causes downward curvature of waves propagated horizontally. This means a signal projected upward has the innate tendency to bounce off of the atmospheric layer and back down to the original sender. This is what enables meteorologists to study and determine current weather conditions. Everything reflects/refracts differently, with the patterns witnessed in tornadoes and in rainstorms being easily distinguishable from one another. We have, at this point, an accurate and comprehensive index detailing just about everything one might expect when projecting a signal. I'm utilizing an active remote sensing model, transmitting waves into the atmosphere and measuring their transmission. I expected nothing outside of the norm, and was very nearly proven correct. That's not it, though.

Whatever it is I've tracked is massive, apparently nigh-translucent, and possessing an overcast of frightening magnitude. Tests indicate that the waves halted briefly before passing through the structure, as though being observed and judged before being granted passage. I've presented my findings to my colleagues, who are equally as scintillated/frightened/perplexed/intrigued/aroused scientifically as myself. Current forecasts and atmospheric readings indicate there being nothing even remotely similar on the horizon; no storm surge, no mounting weather event. Just a cluster of apparently dense, un-dissoluble clouds gathered roughly a mile from my apartment, floating in a somewhat fixed position near a valley of transformers and arid grasses. Since my discovery of it, the colored bulbs rigged to my modem setup have been flickering steadily, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Spooky.