As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the study of Doonsbury as I contemplated the past week of rain. 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 66 in Sagittarius. It looked uncannily like Alan Rickman. Then, I checked off NGC 1199. It was like Demi Moore. After that, I accidentally located B 34 in Lynx. It sparkled like dancing elephants. Next, I went for M 75. It was not quite as bright as cotton on velvet. Then, for a real challenge, I studied M 37. It seemed fainter than spent coals, faintly glowing.
After a short break to check my email, I sought NGC 4458. It shimmered, as if it were cotton candy. After that, I sketched NGC 2643. It glowed, rather like its Hubble photograph. Then, I tried for Abell 93. It took me back to the first time I saw George W. Bush. Then, for a real challenge, I identified IC 1786 in Hydra. It appeared in the eyepiece like cream being swirled into hot coffee. Then, I hunted B 156. It shimmered, as if it were cotton candy. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I star-hopped to IC 3443 in Canis Major. It was like the pillars of creation. Then, for a real challenge, I slewed to Abell 17. It appeared as yet another globular.
After a short break to enjoy a nutritious snack, I logged NGC 117. It gave the appearance of Santa Claus.
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 24-hour 007 marathon.