My observing report

As I drove up the winding road to my driveway, I idly mused upon the socioeconomic impact of my life's work 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 53 telescopes set up.

I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 41. It would be easy to confuse with 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I located M 87. It seemed almost diamonds on light grey velvet. Next, I checked off M 74 in Ursa Major. It took me back to the first time I saw a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness.

After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I added to my logbook M 14. It looked exactly like spent coals, faintly glowing. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found by accident IC 3028. It was even more difficult than a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. Then, for a real challenge, I tracked down IC 271. It somewhat resembled a far-away cloud. With that checked off my list, I slewed to Abell 42. It was easy, just like the eternal nothingness of being. With that checked off my list, I had a chance to see IC 1192 in Ursa Minor. It appeared to be cotton candy. Then, I glimpsed NGC 1889 in Fornax. It would be easy to confuse with Alan Rickman. Then, for a real challenge, I checked out B 300 in Septans. It shimmered, as if it were ripples of water. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I added to my logbook IC 2642. It was like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star.

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 being strapped naked to an anthill.


    ...Akkana (with help from David North, Jane Houston Jones, and Bill Arnett) .

(Don't forget to hit reload.)