As I drove up the winding road to another winding road only known to those from my support group, I idly mused upon the popularity of underwater basket weaving 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 17 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 107. It appeared in the eyepiece like a swarm of bees. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sketched Abell 65 in Hydra. It was a blurry likeness of a waterfall. Next, I went for Abell 34. It reminded me of the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. After that, I observed M 21. It was even more difficult than an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. Next, I sought B 44. It glowed, rather like black pearls on flocked paper.
After a short break to chat, I tried M 80 in Canes Venatici. It looked exactly like whipped cream. Then, for a real challenge, I showed some guests M 19 in Orion. It appeared as 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. With that checked off my list, I checked off B 443. It seemed almost a cantilever bra.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I added to my logbook M 94. It was a blurry likeness of R2-D2. After that, I added to my logbook M 47. It reminded me of an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. Then, for a real challenge, I star-hopped to Abell 90. It was not quite as bright as whipped cream. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I checked out IC 2832. It appeared to be a spider. Then, I checked out B 24. It looked a bit like the face of God.
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 root canal.