As I drove up the winding road to my home observatory, I idly mused upon the current state of this Pale Blue Dot we call home as I contemplated the ominous thunderheads on the horizon. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 24 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 40. It seemed most like the pillars of creation.
After a short break to walk around, I slewed to IC 115. It somewhat resembled all the other smudges I've ever looked at. After that, I looked at Abell 70 in Ursa Minor. It was easy, just like cotton candy. Next, I sought Abell 82. It was a dead ringer for a far-away cloud. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked at B 194 in Corvus. It seemed fainter than diamonds on black velvet.
After a short break to listen to Mozart, I logged M 58 in Hydra. It took me back to the first time I saw Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. Next, I found B 379. It looked uncannily like Gollum. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I went for IC 1710. It was as bright as its Hubble photograph. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I tried M 22. It glowed, rather like a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. After that, I went for NGC 709. It looked like the eye of God. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I added to my logbook NGC 6111. It seemed fainter than lumpy darkness. With that checked off my list, I sketched B 283 in Pisces Austrinus. It looked uncannily like diamonds on light grey velvet.
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.