Discovering the hides at our local nature reserve had been vandalised. Locks smashed, contents thrown out of the windows, logbook ripped up.
Cleaning up the excrement left by one of the above weak-arsed vandals in the Near Hide.
Removing from the Far Hide, the detritus and sundry used items left after an evening of carnal passion between consenting vandals.
The eleven wonderful folk, who care enough about Nature to spend a Sunday morning cutting down Willow, Hawthorn and Brambles to help restore a butterfly bank for wild flowers and insects. And who helped me find my broken glasses when a branch made a bit of a spectacle of me.
Spotting a roosting Migrant Hawker dragonfly on the trunk of a tree that was about to be felled. Needless to say, I still had intact specs at this point. The dragon perched on my hand for a while, wing-whirring to gain heat in its flight muscles, before taking to the air and disappearing from view.
The fact that the consenting vandals were using condoms. With any luck, there'll be less of the ignorant fuckwits around in the future.
Oh, poot! I nearly made it to the end without recourse to profanity.