I work in a little village just outside of Lichfield called Kings Bromley. Usually it’s a sleepy little place, the local pub only opens 4 days a week. But yesterday afternoon, I looked up from my desk to see a butt-load of Fire.
Within minutes our usually quiet little lane had become packed with cars and people all clammering to get a look at what apparently was a major event for Kings Bromley. By now the fire had spread beyond what you can see in the photo, but I decided that if I didn’t get out now, I may never leave. Not because of the fire (although it was massive, and the noise it made was awesome) but just the shear volume of people. When I (eventually) pulled on to the main road, and made my way back along past the fire there was about 20 cars stopped trying to get a glimpse of what was going on.
By now there were about 6 fire engines, plus some guy with a vat of water on a trailer (I dunno what he thought he could do with that). This morning there was no sign of the festival like atmosphere of last night, just a sad smouldering mess in the top field. Still, I guess the ground will be mega fertile now.
Update: As the fire damaged the power-lines, I got the afternoon off!