Tell you the truth, I miss those days.
We used to bulldoze brush up in huge piles after clearcuts here ( In these few words I've already got Greenpeace and all the others on my case), stick a few tires under one end, douse them with diesel and set the whole pyre aflame.
Next day we'd bring some potatoes and garlic butter and have baked potatoes for lunch.
Nothing tastes better than a potato, baked in the embers of a destroyed forest.
" Bare ruin'd choirs where late the sweet birds sang"