Bonfire Bonanza

Isn’t having a bonfire fun! There’s something inherently primeval about lugging bits of wood around the garden and burning them. And people seem to be drawn to them like moths to a flame, standing there glassy eyed, slowly getting smoked like a kipper, gazing into the flames like something possessed, clothes getting lightly singed and eyebrows disappearing.

Yes we started to tidy up our garden last night and we had a quantity of boughs off the trees that had to be got rid of and I didn’t fancy filling the back of my car for a trip to the recycling place with my ‘green’ waste. So a fire was on the cards from the off.

Just the thought of helping with a fire was enough to unglue the teenage boys from their computer screens and they staggered into the daylight wincing as the sun burnt their reddened eyes, coughing as oxygen coursed through their lungs replacing the fetid carbon dioxide of their bedrooms. But they were keen to help (god forbid).

So soon the newspaper had been crinkled, the kindling arranged and the lighter flicked into life. Soon we had a roaring conflagration upon which the garden rubbish was piled with no mercy (note that we were on constant alert for errant hedgehogs). The heat was such that like ground zero the plants and shrubs within feet of the fire were soon blackened ashes, I comforted the wife telling that fire was good for plants, that is was cleansing and regenerative, take the proteas of South Africa for example. However, my wife was of the opinion that dahlias were not of the same hardy stock as the protea and stomped off in a huff!

The boughs burnt and the crap crackled and we were finding it harder and harder to find fuel for the fire. The garden was being scoured for anything and everything flammable. Isn’t it the case that once you start burning things then its difficult to stop, I even think this was used as an excuse by those Nazi’s who were burning books in the 1940’s. ‘Ya vell ve started viz zer porno and then once ve run out ve had to keep ze fire going, zo we burnt all ze other books too, it vas great, huge flames ya!

I think there is a little arsonist in all of us, that’s why we stand around the fire throwing stuff on, just to watch it burn, no other reason, except just to watch it burn. Pretty soon the garden was pristine, nothing flammable left and even some overhanging branches from the live trees had been cut off and added to the fire. These additional branches then give off really satisfying gouts of white smoke as the greenery boils and burns. Its then, and only then, that you wish you’d watched those old cowboy films a bit closer and learnt how to make smoke signals – how useful would that be.

Smoke signals




Then later there’s the pleasure of sitting down with a cup of tea, watching the embers glow and hiss, the slight flare of flame as you kick another half burnt twig on the fire, the charcoaly taste of the burnt potato, the roast hedgehog (no only joking!) the smell of wood smoke in the air and in your hair and clothes. Yes one can kick back relax and enjoy the soothing heat and the feeling of a job well done.

Yes there’s nothing quite as good as a bonfire, roll on November 5th.