I have been having my own Fahrenheit 451 - spent most of the morning and the whole afternoon with a huge, empty oil drum, on a hill side farm in Morvah today. I burnt 6 full Viking boxes of old paper work from former clients, spanning back 7 years. They were confidential files and too many to shred, so burning is the only answer. The phoenix claimed the white paper, which turned into crow' and wood pigeon wings - feathering on the wind.
I am now back and feeling par-cooked; I am grimy and stink of paper smoke. However, there is something quite purifying in torching all that paper. The cleansing fire, raging through old bills and dead cheque books with an all-consuming hunger. I have another 12 boxes to get through - this will be for another day (or two!!).
"It was a pleasure to burn" Ray Bradbury: Farenheit 451.