As I drove up the winding road to the middle of nowhere, I idly mused upon the socioeconomic impact of astrology 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 26 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 42. It seemed fainter than a spider. Then, I added to my logbook IC 3029 in Lynx. It reminded me of Santa Claus. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I slewed to Abell 66 in Lyra. It was a dead ringer for a far-away cloud. With that checked off my list, I sketched M 33 in Cygnus. It was as bright as two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I observed B 556. It took me back to the first time I saw an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. Then, for a real challenge, I sought IC 1520. It would be easy to confuse with a swarm of bees. Then, for a real challenge, I sought NGC 5684. It was a dead ringer for Alan Rickman. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I accidentally located M 62. It seemed just like its Hubble photograph. Next, I went for B 161. It glowed, rather like two scoops of spumoni ice cream.
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 reading observing reports.