This past summer, a volunteer chard plant came up out in our vegetable garden. Walt noticed it first and started watering it. It grew huge leaves with thick white ribs.
Then, while I was in North Carolina, Walt moved a four-year-old burn pile — branches, limbs, twigs — over to the garden plot. And yesterday he burned it. Earlier, I had gone out and dug up the Swiss chard plant, which was close to the burn pile, so that it wouldn't be charred by the heat of the fire.
The weather was foggy, verging on misty. Officially, people here are encouraged not to burn yard trimmings and clippings. Everybody does it, however. I see plumes of smoke all around the area at this time of year. Compared to the pollution produced by hundred and thousands of fireplace fires over the winter, a feu de jardin like this once every few years can't possibly have much or any effect on our air quality.
Here's the not-charred chard after Walt cooked it yesterday afternoon. It will be good as a side dish or in a quiche or omelette.