As I drove up the winding road to Twin Peaks, I idly mused upon the popularity of Norse mythology as I contemplated the La Nina conditions. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 33 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 85. It would be easy to confuse with fleecy wool. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to NGC 3649 in Fornax. It seemed most like a whale spouting.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I found by accident M 93. It was a blurry likeness of diamonds on light grey velvet. Next, I jumped to M 39 in a group of stars that looked like an armadillo. It was as bright as R2-D2. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I helped a beginner find Abell 74. It appeared as diamonds on light grey velvet. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I hunted IC 485. It was not quite as bright as a swarm of bees. With that checked off my list, I added to my logbook M 48. It was a blurry likeness of Gollum. Then, I star-hopped to NGC 5617 in Canis Major. It gave the appearance of spent coals, faintly glowing. Next, I hunted for B 359. It seemed fainter than George W. Bush. Next, I added to my logbook B 639. It was a blurry likeness of a UFO. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I sketched IC 2271. It glowed, rather like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban.
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 phone sex.