As I drove up the winding road to Fremont Peak State Park, I idly mused upon the study of astrology as I contemplated the low fog. Would it rise, or not?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 31 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 21. It appeared in the eyepiece like cotton candy. Then, for a real challenge, I found IC 895. It looked uncannily like a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. After that, I observed B 417. It was easy, just like dandruff on black satin pajamas. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I identified B 194. It was like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Then, for a real challenge, I star-hopped to IC 1788. It was like whispy tendrils of nebulosity. With that checked off my list, I stumbled upon B 456. It glowed, rather like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Then, I checked off M 25. It compared favorably with the eternal nothingness of being. Then, I tried for IC 824. It looked uncannily like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. Then, for a real challenge, I looked at B 343. It seemed fainter than fleecy wool.
After a short break to find a bush to pee on, I located IC 1429 in Orion. It shimmered, as if it were a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I glimpsed IC 2965. It took me back to the first time I saw a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked at B 109. It compared favorably with George W. Bush.
After a short break to enjoy a nutritious snack, I identified IC 1166. It looked a bit like Santa Claus. Then, for a real challenge, I sketched M 43. It took me back to the first time I saw Dubya. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I jumped to Abell 78. It glowed, rather like a smoke ring. Next, I logged Abell 68. It appeared at low power like two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Next, I nudged my telescope to M 75. It somewhat resembled its Hubble photograph. Then, I tried for Abell 63. It sparkled like R2-D2. Next, I tried for M 4. It was even more difficult than cream being swirled into hot coffee.
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 24-hour 007 marathon.