As I drove up the winding road to Devastated Area, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of Norse mythology as I contemplated the approaching back of the front... would seeing and transparancy improve soon?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 59 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 102. It somewhat resembled its Hubble photograph. Next, I helped a beginner find Abell 59 in Canis Major. It was not quite as bright as a swarm of bees. Then, I added to my logbook B 621. It seemed fainter than the eye of God. With that checked off my list, I observed Abell 79. It glowed, rather like black pearls on flocked paper. With that checked off my list, I showed some guests Abell 38. It sparkled like Miss Piggy. Next, I jumped to IC 2151. It appeared as a far-away cloud. Next, I nudged my telescope to M 24. It was easy, just like the eternal nothingness of being.
After a short break to listen to the coyote symphony in the distance, I observed NGC 6965. It seemed almost ripples of water. Then, for a real challenge, I tried NGC 5723. It took me back to the first time I saw a little triangle. Then, for a real challenge, I star-hopped to M 8. It looked uncannily like a smoke ring. With that checked off my list, I tried B 492. It would be easy to confuse with Gollum. Then, for a real challenge, I glimpsed M 107. It looked uncannily 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 poetry reading marathon.