Rules regarding bonfires in Sheffield gardens

[florence kat 11]

After an enormous clearing of the garden, I want to light a bonfire.

What are the current council "rules" on this?

[El Cid 220]

I believe garden fires are ok, so long as they do not annoy the neighbours.

[Guest busdriver1]

I believe you also have a responsibility to ensure the smoke does not cause a hazard to motorists on nearby roads

[Dan_Ashcroft 10]

There are no rules for occasional ones, only if they become persistant

[markfor 10]

Every time I light a fire on allotment the owners of house at back kick up a big fuss!!

[Thorpist 72]

You could always get up at sunrise occasionally and have the bonfire ,lit properly it would be out in a couple of hours.

[Holiday1166 10]

What time are you allowed to have a bonfire ?

[Granma 10]

Please check no animals are hiding in it.

Isn't there any recycling for garden waste in Sheffield?

 

Granma.

[Dan_Ashcroft 10]

What time are you allowed to have a bonfire ?

 

Any time.

 

It's more just about the courtesy with neighbours - letting them know so they don't put washing out etc.

 

---------- Post added 09-04-2018 at 09:27 ----------

 

Please check no animals are hiding in it.

Isn't there any recycling for garden waste in Sheffield?

 

Granma.

 

I think it's better for the environment to burn it than have it in landfill. Both create dioxins, but with landfill you get methane too.

[Owethemnowt 10]

After finally tackling the runaway leylandi that were so high NASA had them under observation and Speilberg had contacted me about the film rights, I decided to have a bonfire.

 

The garden was being 're-landscaped' so there was no problem in choosing the best location. Dead centre would do. Scorched earth, ala George Bush, was to be covered over with crazy paving. Yes, you would see the cracks appearing soon. Then one evening, the best time, I started a fire that had the whole world ....... coughing.

 

Not unusually this was slow burn. A little petrol guaranteed it would ignite and burn if assisted for some time before the greenery accepted its fate and finally sent up a thick grey column of smoke that topped out at the height of the tallest trees before descending and engulfing a good stretch of by-pass and the entire housing estate beyond.

 

However, that's too much information. All I knew, and my amused yet enthusiastic neighbour too [think Robin to my Batman], was that it 'went up' well, as he said it would. Just how exactly we first became aware of the panic that was setting in acorss the by-pass I'm not sure. Then again there was a discussion about 'holy shamolly, a lot of smoke' and my assurances that it was 'rising above the trees, Robin.'

 

It was when I strolled to the top of the garden and saw that the distant by-pass was engulfed by a hundred metre stretch of 'fug', one that Stephen King described so well in one of his many fictional accounts, that 'Huston, we have a problem' flashed through my mind. In contrast to the best fiction, this was pure reality.

 

My neighbour, showing all the courage of a man who goes to war in plimsoles, urged I put it out. This would be like catching a tiger by the tail. The flames were now straining the neck to glimpse the top of and the heat had us both retreating towards the house where my ever despairing wife stood with a glass of water in one hand and a jar of moisturiser in the other. Meanwhile, my ever increasingly pessimistic doom laden neighbour warned that the fence would surely catch light.

 

I decided to calm his nerves and unrolled the hose pipe towards the furnace. My futile efforts had me wondering what the name of the man was who stood before that oncoming tank in Tianmen Square.

 

It was a scene from hell. Eruptions of fire shot skywards and threw huge shadows across the land that danced widely in tune with the rhythms of flame. I began to hear voices. Was it Hephaestus calling out to me? Smiling his approval across the centuries at my work and anticipating the blacksmithing that was about to produce weapons of war.

 

No.

 

It was a Fire Officer's voice, 'This is it. Hello? Can we have a word?'

 

It was only the one fire engine that turned up. It answered the woman's emergency call that a house was engulfed in flames. The fire was so bad she'd followed the trail of smoke through the estate. It was well meant. After all, she was now on hand in case she could be of further assistance; evacuate the wounded, distribute blankets, make cups of tea. I could hear her enquiring as to my safety; 'He wants locking up.'

 

The two burly individuals who then asked to see the fire later explained to me that they had no concern as I'd 'taken precautions' and all was 'under control.' I asked if that applied to the woman at the gate.

 

The woman raged. The fire did too. The burly men climbed back into the huge engine that blocked the road, the on looking neighbours returned to cocoa and the late night film and, bathed in blue flashing light mixed with radiant reds and yellows, I thought I might throw in a couple of potatoes for good measure. After all, it would burn all night.

 

It did. And the next day. And for some days after that. Eventually, I had to douse down the paving slabs the fire stood on. Even then the earth underneath resembled a Gulf War post Iraq, substituting the charcoal coloured burnt oil for that of the leylandi.

 

There's still talk in these parts of the Great Garden Fire of 2011 and how there will never be another like that.

 

Little do they know I'm planning to cut the other leylandi this year when there's a still, moonlit night.

Edited April 9, 2018 by Owethemnowt

[truman 10]

Any time.

 

It's more just about the courtesy with neighbours - letting them know so they don't put washing out etc.

 

---------- Post added 09-04-2018 at 09:27 ----------

 

 

I think it's better for the environment to burn it than have it in landfill. Both create dioxins, but with landfill you get methane too.

 

Genuine question..where do dioxins come from when burning garden waste eg dry grass and hedge//tree clippings etc?

[Itrytoplease 10]

After finally tackling the runaway leylandi that were so high NASA had them under observation and Speilberg had contacted me about the film rights, I decided to have a bonfire.

 

The garden was being 're-landscaped' so there was no problem in choosing the best location. Dead centre would do. Scorched earth, ala George Bush, was to be covered over with crazy paving. Yes, you would see the cracks appearing soon. Then one evening, the best time, I started a fire that had the whole world ....... coughing.

 

Not unusually this was slow burn. A little petrol guaranteed it would ignite and burn if assisted for some time before the greenery accepted its fate and finally sent up a thick grey column of smoke that topped out at the height of the tallest trees before descending and engulfing a good stretch of by-pass and the entire housing estate beyond.

 

However, that's too much information. All I knew, and my amused yet enthusiastic neighbour too [think Robin to my Batman], was that it 'went up' well, as he said it would. Just how exactly we first became aware of the panic that was setting in acorss the by-pass I'm not sure. Then again there was a discussion about 'holy shamolly, a lot of smoke' and my assurances that it was 'rising above the trees, Robin.'

 

It was when I strolled to the top of the garden and saw that the distant by-pass was engulfed by a hundred metre stretch of 'fug', one that Stephen King described so well in one of his many fictional accounts, that 'Huston, we have a problem' flashed through my mind. In contrast to the best fiction, this was pure reality.

 

My neighbour, showing all the courage of a man who goes to war in plimsoles, urged I put it out. This would be like catching a tiger by the tail. The flames were now straining the neck to glimpse the top of and the heat had us both retreating towards the house where my ever despairing wife stood with a glass of water in one hand and a jar of moisturiser in the other. Meanwhile, my ever increasingly pessimistic doom laden neighbour warned that the fence would surely catch light.

 

I decided to calm his nerves and unrolled the hose pipe towards the furnace. My futile efforts had me wondering what the name of the man was who stood before that oncoming tank in Tianmen Square.

 

It was a scene from hell. Eruptions of fire shot skywards and threw huge shadows across the land that danced widely in tune with the rhythms of flame. I began to hear voices. Was it Hephaestus calling out to me? Smiling his approval across the centuries at my work and anticipating the blacksmithing that was about to produce weapons of war.

 

No.

 

It was a Fire Officer's voice, 'This is it. Hello? Can we have a word?'

 

It was only the one fire engine that turned up. It answered the woman's emergency call that a house was engulfed in flames. The fire was so bad she'd followed the trail of smoke through the estate. It was well meant. After all, she was now on hand in case she could be of further assistance; evacuate the wounded, distribute blankets, make cups of tea. I could hear her enquiring as to my safety; 'He wants locking up.'

 

The two burly individuals who then asked to see the fire later explained to me that they had no concern as I'd 'taken precautions' and all was 'under control.' I asked if that applied to the woman at the gate.

 

The woman raged. The fire did too. The burly men climbed back into the huge engine that blocked the road, the on looking neighbours returned to cocoa and the late night film and, bathed in blue flashing light mixed with radiant reds and yellows, I thought I might throw in a couple of potatoes for good measure. After all, it would burn all night.

 

It did. And the next day. And for some days after that. Eventually, I had to douse down the paving slabs the fire stood on. Even then the earth underneath resembled a Gulf War post Iraq, substituting the charcoal coloured burnt oil for that of the leylandi.

 

There's still talk in these parts of the Great Garden Fire of 2011 and how there will never be another like that.

 

Little do they know I'm planning to cut the other leylandi this year when there's a still, moonlit night.

 

Oh! how i miss this type of post, used to be quite common, but sadly it seems to have died out.

A great read.