AD LIBs contain POT LUCK …
Taken on a stroll through town with our friendly Challenge in mind (what a good thing we don’t get thumped for being too interpretative). So, ever loose with our definitions (it increases scope):
—no shortage of containers here. From the huge blue in the distance (the telephoto snap doesn’t do the beast justice) via the functioning Warehouse on the left to the containing baggies and wotnots in the foreground, we cast our eyes over that squelched orange contained by the wee puddle—
—which on zooming in (aaah, the magic of modern lenses) looks a lot more like this. I’m every bit as intrigued as you are, and no, there were no Photoshops harmed in getting this snap. All is straight as it came from the camera, a masterpiece of illusion contained in reflected colours.
CONTAINING COLOURS, OF NIGHT—?
Or of predawn; contained in this mix of wishful thinking and painfully cold hands. It was minus five when I sneaked out to get some shots before dawn and found only when I got to the wee town that I’d forgotten my gloves. Good camera, heavy metal tripod, and the enthusiasm of the insane—I got my shots and beat frostbite home by (I think) mere minutes …
SO HERE YOU HAVE
several seconds of a lifetime contained in a single snap. It’s one of the town’s three pubs and the lights of a passing cattle-truck. Make of it what you may—
—and I’m off now ‘cos The Spouse wants me to help her watch TV and demolish some of those potato crispy things we’re so expert at giving up.