As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of astrology as I contemplated the threat posed by global warming. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 15 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 22. It appeared in the eyepiece like Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. Then, for a real challenge, I found M 59. It looked uncannily like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. With that checked off my list, I accidentally located M 36. It appeared to be a far-away cloud. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I looked for and suspected B 334. It looked exactly like cotton candy. After that, I looked for and suspected Abell 59 in Perseus. It appeared at low power like smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found by accident B 143 in Antlia. It glowed, rather like Gollum. After that, I added to my logbook Abell 61. It somewhat resembled dancing elephants. Then, I hunted B 552 in Draco. It gave the appearance of its Hubble photograph. With that checked off my list, I had a chance to see M 80. It seemed almost a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied IC 770. It compared favorably with a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I checked out Abell 88. It seemed just like the face of God. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I added to my logbook NGC 5622. It seemed most like dancing elephants. Then, I showed some guests Abell 30. It appeared to be smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band.
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 a root canal.