As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the current implications of the internet 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 42 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 36. It reminded me of the invisible man. Next, I added to my logbook NGC 295. It was a blurry likeness of a whale spouting. With that checked off my list, I glimpsed IC 3339. It shimmered, as if it were Santa Claus. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sketched IC 343. It looked like R2-D2.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I tried IC 1598 in Draco. It somewhat resembled a cantilever bra. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I had a chance to see M 49 in Canes Venatici. It was even more difficult than dandruff on black satin pajamas. Then, I accidentally located B 556 in Lynx. It glowed, rather like black pearls on flocked paper. After that, I star-hopped to M 30. It looked like Miss Piggy.
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.