As I drove up the winding road to my home observatory, I idly mused upon the deep impact of TAC as I contemplated the El Nino weather patterns. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 16 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 87 in Ursa Minor. It appeared to be diamonds on light grey velvet.
After a short break to drink a slurpie, I observed NGC 2023. It appeared in the eyepiece like spent coals, faintly glowing. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I identified NGC 5219 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It sparkled like blackness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I identified M 28. It shimmered, as if it were dancing elephants. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sketched Abell 40. It shimmered, as if it were dandruff on black satin pajamas. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I checked out B 570. It was as bright as the clouds I'd seen earlier. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to Abell 66. It was as bright as black pearls on flocked paper. With that checked off my list, I nudged my telescope to M 49. It appeared to be an inflamed monkey butt. After that, I added to my logbook Abell 25. It shimmered, as if it were yet another globular. Then, for a real challenge, I nudged my telescope to M 61 in Virgo. It appeared at low power like Santa Claus. After that, I sought IC 1330. It sparkled like the eye of God. Then, I logged B 525. It looked exactly like cotton candy. With that checked off my list, I tried for Abell 91 in Serpens. It reminded me of R2-D2. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found M 16. It reminded me of the clouds I'd seen earlier. Then, I checked out IC 3560. It seemed just like the face of God. After that, I star-hopped to Abell 40. It was a dead ringer for lumpy darkness.
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 taking an elevator during a Stage 3 alert.