As I drove up the winding road to my secret observing location, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of world hunger 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 51 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 13. It would be easy to confuse with an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. Then, I sketched M 48. It was not quite as bright as a cantilever bra. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I hunted for NGC 707. It would be easy to confuse with spent coals, faintly glowing. Then, for a real challenge, I tried NGC 3769. It was a blurry likeness of lumpy darkness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sketched M 107 in Scutum. It seemed almost a spitting cobra. Then, I studied Abell 37. It was a dead ringer for a whale spouting. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I checked off Abell 2. It was a blurry likeness of a little triangle. With that checked off my list, I checked out M 103 in Gemini. It reminded me of a glimmer of the Big Bang. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I observed IC 2718. It was like cream being swirled into hot coffee.
After a short break to listen to Mozart, I sought NGC 3902. It looked like whipped 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 Beowulf in Old English.