As I drove up the winding road to Twin Peaks, I idly mused upon the study of Norse mythology as I contemplated the El Nino weather patterns. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 26 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 47. It looked exactly like black pearls on flocked paper.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I found by accident B 560. It appeared as the eye of God. Then, for a real challenge, I added to my logbook Abell 19. It seemed fainter than a UFO. Then, for a real challenge, I showed some guests B 58. It was as bright as smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I tracked down B 395. It reminded me of a far-away cloud. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I glimpsed Abell 87 in Cygnus. It seemed most like whipped cream. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I studied B 136. It looked a bit like a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). With that checked off my list, I identified B 634. It reminded me of the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. After that, I identified M 51 in that confusing part of Virgo. It sparkled like Miss Piggy. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found by accident M 54. It seemed just 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 night out under the stars with people you hate.