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  • A bonfire on the farm, was nothing like the piddly little cook up barbecue fires I'd seen before. In order to clear the land of brush, the farm hands set the brush ablaze. I stood beside them a little petrified of the huge flames reaching up to the skies, a deep orange against the bright blue sky. The fire threw up pieces of brush into the sky making me think of how volcanos erupt and throw up smoke and lava. I was on one side with the farm hands and my family on the other, and I wondered what if the blaze goes out of control, what if I'm trapped here and can't get away, what if, what if... Then I let it all go, realising the logic of the land. The fire won't spread because of the wet land and the green branches. The brush, surkanda, or bull rushes won't be destroyed. The farm hands were nearby, the farmer with his young kid. They knew better, and I learnt. The kid told me the the green shoots will grow again, the farmer said they do this every year to clear the brush, otherwise it becomes too thick and wild to be of any use. And I knew I could run, like a superstar through the flames all around me... Well not really, but I let myself have faith in those who knew better, who knew more about the land and I let myself watch the glorious flames along with the beautiful wild birds of our land who had come to feed on the worms that were overturned by the tractor clearing the land.
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