As I drove up the winding road to Henry Coe State Park, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of Norse mythology as I contemplated the fleecy clouds, hoping they would clear. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 52 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 31. It reminded me of cotton candy. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I looked at IC 2166 in Camelopardalis. It would be easy to confuse with spent coals, faintly glowing. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I checked out M 40. It seemed just like Miss Piggy. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I logged Abell 59 in Lepus. It compared favorably with blackness. Next, I hunted for B 398. It shimmered, as if it were one of Martha Stewart's doilies. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found by accident B 336. It shimmered, as if it were whipped cream. Next, I identified M 47. It was like ripples of water. Then, for a real challenge, I identified M 24. It appeared in the eyepiece like spent coals, faintly glowing. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I showed some guests IC 2607. It would be easy to confuse with nothing I'd ever seen before. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I glimpsed M 67. It looked exactly like diamonds on black velvet. Then, I tried NGC 4133 in Antlia. It was like a swarm of bees. Next, I slewed to M 3. It looked uncannily like the last six objects I'd seen. Then, for a real challenge, I logged B 633. It looked exactly like cotton on 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 a State of the Union address.