As I drove up the winding road to another winding road only known to those from my support group, I idly mused upon the deep mystery of underwater basket weaving as I contemplated the approaching chlorofluorocarbons ... would it be warmer tonight?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 13 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 54 in Lynx. It looked like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I checked out Abell 61. It seemed fainter than its Hubble photograph.
After a short break to warm up in the car, I checked off Abell 92. It sparkled like black pearls on flocked paper. Then, for a real challenge, I had a chance to see M 39 in Orion. It was a blurry likeness of Smokey the Bear. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied B 158. It took me back to the first time I saw fleecy wool. Then, for a real challenge, I accidentally located M 50. It looked like spent coals, faintly glowing. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I had a chance to see NGC 2820. It was easy, just like R2-D2. Then, I showed some guests IC 3404 in Hydra. It shimmered, as if it were a far-away cloud. After that, I looked for and suspected IC 1767. It appeared in the eyepiece like an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane.
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.