As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the current implications of Norse mythology as I contemplated the shrinking ozone layer. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 5 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 100 in a group of stars that looked like an armadillo. It reminded me of a glimmer of the Big Bang. With that checked off my list, I identified Abell 74 in Sculptor. It was even more difficult than cotton candy.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I studied B 513. It was not quite as bright as that graph in An Unpleasant Truth.
After a short break to drink a slurpie, I went for B 150. It somewhat resembled lumpy darkness. Then, I showed some guests Abell 30. It was as bright as the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. After that, I sought IC 1165 in Hydra. It was even more difficult than the face of God. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found IC 619. It looked a bit like cotton candy. Then, I found by accident B 38. It glowed, rather like Miss Piggy. After that, I sketched Abell 56. It gave the appearance of cotton candy. Then, I logged NGC 6147. It would be easy to confuse with fleecy wool. Next, I tried for Abell 96. It was not quite as bright as cotton on velvet. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I added to my logbook M 55. It looked exactly like Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. Then, I glimpsed M 22. It was not quite as bright as the invisible man. Then, for a real challenge, I hunted for B 496. It was as bright as a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star.
After a short break to recite my mantra, I nudged my telescope to M 56. It was like a little triangle.
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 phone sex.