As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the socioeconomic impact of the human spirit as I contemplated the night's aurora display. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 3 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 75 in Ophiuchus. It shimmered, as if it were Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. Then, I had a chance to see B 478. It looked a bit like 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. Then, I sought B 214 in Canes Venatici. It was a dead ringer for ripples of water. After that, I went for M 47 in Hydra. It appeared to be a far-away cloud. Then, I glimpsed B 505. It took me back to the first time I saw nothing I'd ever seen before. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I observed NGC 4306 in Camelopardalis. It sparkled like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth.
After a short break to do some yoga, I sketched B 223. It shimmered, as if it were George W. Bush. Then, I accidentally located Abell 12. It seemed just like a glimmer of the Big Bang.
After a short break to recite my mantra, I sought NGC 2260. It was even more difficult than R2-D2. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to M 19. It reminded me of smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. With that checked off my list, I nudged my telescope to Abell 18. It was better than a Black Rider hunting for Frodo.
After a short break to warm up in the car, I located Abell 73. It seemed just like ripples of water.
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 kick in the pants with a copper toed boot.