FEW events in rural production draw more interest than a blazing cane fire.
The intense heat radiating out from the giant flames licking the evening sky was once an experience most Queenslanders could say they've had.
Nowadays, the burning of a crop of cane is a spectacle, prompting cars to pull over and watch, followed by a flurry of digital camera flashes capturing a fading tradition.
As Bundaberg farmer Darryl Zielke burnt off a block in preparation for planting rather than harvesting, fascinated tourists and locals alike lined the side road to witness the event.
In an industry with so much tradition to the way things are done, burning a paddock of cane is no longer a matter of simply lighting it up and watching it roar.
"It's all done above board these days. Most of us guys are part of the rural fire brigade and you run your tankers and you've got your mates there with their tankers," Darryl said.
Farmers intending to burn are required to ring Firecom - the Queensland Fire and Rescue fire coordination unit, as well as alerting neighbours and the local fire department.
Darryl, as a fourth-generation cane farmer, has seen his share of cane fires, particularly on the 11ha property he farms with his brother, Robert.
The burnt paddock, which was ripped, rotary-hoed, and then treated with gypsum and lime, now has planted cane already emerging.
"This year has been a really good year. We can't whinge about it," Darryl said.
"We will make a bob this year. There's no problem about that but it's been a struggle prior to it.
"Farmers are probably the best greenies around except they're not radical like the radicals," Darryl said.