As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the study of underwater basket weaving as I contemplated the threat posed by global warming. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 51 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 7. It was easy, just like Gollum. Then, for a real challenge, I located NGC 6140. It reminded me of a nebula. After that, I tried for B 395. It was easy, just like its Hubble photograph.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I checked out B 337. It was easy, just like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I added to my logbook M 24. It seemed most like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth.
After a short break to drink a slurpie, I nudged my telescope to Abell 63. It seemed fainter than Krylon Ultra-Flat Black.
After a short break to chat, I tried for Abell 10. It shimmered, as if it were a cantilever bra. With that checked off my list, I had a chance to see M 29. It shimmered, as if it were desert sand. Next, I checked out NGC 1088. It sparkled like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Then, for a real challenge, I slewed to B 525. It appeared in the eyepiece like cream being swirled into hot coffee. After that, I showed some guests M 36. It was even more difficult than diamonds on black 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 yet another town star party with clueless newbies.