The bonfire that nearly got away

So you see, even grandparents can be a bit dopey.  A great pile of stuff to be burnt had collected over the winter in the usual burning pile across the creek.  "Too wet to burn yet", said Chris.  "Oh no", said Doco, "I can get it going".  Well he certainly did!  I played my harp for a bit (too cold for the fingers, and the strings, this morning), then headed out to join the burning fun.

I glanced up the hill and saw that Doco had decided to burn last year's dry grass too.  But "oh-oh", maybe not.  If so, it had got away from him and was licking up the bank and down the road in all directions, helped by a gusty wind from the north.  Not a planned burn at all.  It had just got into the dry grass next the pile and off it went.  Doco had a rake, I was sent for a spade, and we had a busy ten minutes raking the burn back down the hill and stomping it out.  A very good hosing down finished the job.  The much-diminished burn pile was now the only site of flames or embers.  Phew!

Everything was restored to its accustomed peace - the brook running by the budding willow, the varied thrush whistling up in the forest, the winter wren trilling down in the ravine, and the fire-tender resting on his rake.