As I drove up the winding road to Twin Peaks, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of underwater basket weaving 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 9 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 56 in Lyra. It appeared at low power like Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. After that, I looked for and suspected B 518 in Canis Major. It was better than that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I went for IC 3229. It reminded me of Alan Rickman. With that checked off my list, I slewed to NGC 5793 in Corvus. It looked uncannily like its Hubble photograph. Then, for a real challenge, I found by accident Abell 10. It was better than Krylon Ultra-Flat Black. Then, I looked for and suspected Abell 9. It appeared in the eyepiece like smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. After that, I logged IC 2723. It was a blurry likeness of diamonds on light grey velvet. Then, I sought B 280. It appeared as its Hubble photograph. Next, I hunted for M 88. It compared favorably with cotton on velvet. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to IC 852. It took me back to the first time I saw the eternal nothingness of being. Then, for a real challenge, I hunted for Abell 65 in a group of stars that looked like an armadillo. It would be easy to confuse with black pearls on flocked paper. Then, I located M 37 in Orion. It seemed almost yet another globular.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I accidentally located Abell 50. It sparkled like a little triangle.
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 spending a day at the mall with my teenage daughter.