As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the morality of my life's work as I contemplated the night's aurora display. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 56 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 74 in Canes Venatici. It reminded me of yet another globular. Next, I showed some guests M 55. It appeared in the eyepiece like a nebula. Then, I logged B 216 in Lyra. It looked like a cantilever bra. Then, for a real challenge, I hunted IC 1625. It seemed almost Gollum. With that checked off my list, I went for NGC 6193 in Camelopardalis. It gave the appearance of a far-away cloud. After that, I found by accident Abell 91 in Sagittarius. It seemed almost a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness.
After a short break to listen to Mozart, I checked off Abell 44. It appeared at low power like George W. Bush. Then, for a real challenge, I found by accident NGC 707. It took me back to the first time I saw all the other smudges I've ever looked at. Then, for a real challenge, I went for NGC 3593 in Canis Major. It seemed fainter than cream being swirled into hot coffee. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to NGC 525 in Lyra. It reminded me of one of Martha Stewart's doilies.
After a short break to find a bush to pee on, I jumped to B 177. It appeared to be a whale spouting. Then, for a real challenge, I checked out Abell 76. It looked exactly like a smoke ring.
After a short break to walk around, I stumbled upon Abell 14. It was as bright as cotton candy.
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.