As I drove up the winding road to Dinosaur Point, I idly mused upon the inner workings of television as I contemplated the low fog. Would it rise, or not?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 53 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 6. It sparkled like the invisible man. Next, I sought Abell 43 in Virgo. It seemed most like an inflamed monkey butt.
After a short break to listen to the coyote symphony in the distance, I logged Abell 18. It appeared at low power like cotton on velvet.
After a short break to recite my mantra, I sought Abell 69. It appeared in the eyepiece like all the other smudges I've ever looked at. Next, I showed some guests Abell 38 in Orion. It would be easy to confuse with Miss Piggy. Then, for a real challenge, I star-hopped to M 52. It appeared in the eyepiece like the face of God. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I helped a beginner find Abell 84. It glowed, rather like Alan Rickman.
After a short break to walk around, I nudged my telescope to Abell 34. It looked exactly like all the other smudges I've ever looked at.
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 poke in the eye with a frozen dishrag.