Please don't burn me!

Last year, it looked like a well established Pyracantha had died, but we left it to see if it would recover this year. It didn't.

So this week, we had to chop it down to make way for the new. It got me back, covering me in cuts and stab wounds, despite protection. But I managed to cut it up into small enough bits to load up in the chimenea for its ceremonious send off.

I couldn't help feeling as it faced it's maker, flames devouring it's kindling and lower regions, that it was pleading with me with puppy dog eyes...."help me!"