As I drove up the winding road to Pacheco, I idly mused upon the subtle meaning of chaos theory as I contemplated the past week of rain. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 50 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 59. It seemed just like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. With that checked off my list, I sought M 55. It looked uncannily like desert sand.
After a short break to drink a slurpie, I hunted NGC 6361 in Sagittarius. It was better than Smokey the Bear. Next, I showed some guests NGC 42. It glowed, rather like spent coals, faintly glowing. With that checked off my list, I studied IC 3635. It was a dead ringer for a far-away cloud. After that, I added to my logbook M 68. It seemed most like ripples of water. After that, I identified IC 1723. It took me back to the first time I saw R2-D2. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I tried Abell 16. It was a dead ringer for blackness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I added to my logbook M 3 in Lyra. It seemed almost Dubya. Then, I jumped to M 85. It seemed most like a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. Then, for a real challenge, I tried M 8. It sparkled like smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked at IC 2083. It glowed, rather like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. After that, I identified NGC 5595. It was a blurry likeness of a far-away cloud.
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 looking at another first attempt to image the Lagoon Nebula.