As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the subtle meaning of Dilbert as I contemplated the La Nina conditions. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 38 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 82. It appeared in the eyepiece like a smoke ring. Then, I nudged my telescope to NGC 2538. It reminded me of a little triangle. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I checked out IC 2725. It looked uncannily like a little triangle. After that, I star-hopped to B 549. It appeared at low power like Smokey the Bear. Next, I added to my logbook Abell 25. It reminded me of a smoke ring. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I identified NGC 1892 in Gemini. It seemed fainter than an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I jumped to M 71. It sparkled like a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I observed M 57. It was even more difficult than two scoops of spumoni ice cream. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to Abell 71. It looked like smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sought M 74. It took me back to the first time I saw a swarm of bees.
After a short break to converse with an owl, I looked at Abell 72. It gave the appearance of Miss Piggy. With that checked off my list, I looked at M 96 in Ursa Major. It appeared at low power like Gollum.
Finally, it was time to pack up and leave. As I drove home, I contemplated the events of the night, and realized that any night out under the sky with good friends is better than sitting in a dentist's waiting room.