As I drove up the winding road to Pacheco, I idly mused upon the deep impact of the energy crisis as I contemplated the crystal-clear skies. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 29 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 76. It seemed almost a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. After that, I slewed to M 19. It seemed fainter than Smokey the Bear. Next, I accidentally located IC 358. It seemed fainter than Miss Piggy. Next, I found IC 3132 in Ursa Major. It seemed almost an inflamed monkey butt. Then, for a real challenge, I sketched Abell 25. It seemed fainter than a glimmer of the Big Bang. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I added to my logbook B 339 in Sagittarius. It sparkled like a swarm of bees. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I studied Abell 87 in Triangulum. It shimmered, as if it were blackness. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I showed some guests B 46. It would be easy to confuse with nothing I'd ever seen before.
After a short break to enjoy a nutritious snack, I found by accident Abell 44. It seemed almost the face of God. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I sought Abell 57. It was not quite as bright as fleecy wool.
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 night watching an I Love Lucy marathon on Nick at Night.