It should be mentioned that the burn pile was a year's accumulation of weeds, limbs and twigs and about 6x8 feet by 4 feet high (small by Fair Play standards). Flames reach up over 10 feet and the heat is intense. Fire creates its own wind and burning leaves can fly high and head over the field or toward the feed barn and must be shot down with water. The pile must be tended until the flames die back. HD kept an eye out while I began to bring more deadwood from over by and behind the chicken pen and in the orchard. My plan (why do I bother?) had been to take my time over a couple of days to get this done, but I wasn't about to lose an opportunity. I gathered and hauled load after load up the slope in the big yard cart, muscles in legs and back complaining. We traded places and HD dragged the larger limbs to cut up with his chainsaw to throw on the pile. He used the rake to push the edges in and stir the white-hot coals, followed by a column of smoke. I'll freely admit that the heat was more than I could take that close to the pile. It seemed to take forever before there was only a smoldering mass that could be cooled with a stream from the hose in a cloud of steam and left on its own. In actuality, all had been accomplished in a little over two hours. Keeping up with HD is a killer, and I'm really feeling it this morning.
It was another productive day.