Just got back from not finding a cache due partly to not being able to breathe; someone left a plastic bag containing some kind of animal very near it, and I'm afraid it wasn't pining for the fjords. :-{ Guess it's time to contact the parks department.
Not quite caching, but a few hundred feet from where I found a cache: A few days after Hurricane Irene, a week or two before deciding I'd been getting Groundspeak emails long enough without actually doing anything about them, I was out clearing storm debris off paths in a different segment of James River Park. Picked up one fairly hefty tree limb and heaved it into the underbrush, and was surprised to hear it strike what sounded like a plastic trash barrel.
Before I had time to wonder who would leave a trash can deep in a wooded park, a five- or six-point buck leapt up from where he had been resting and dashed off into the forest. =@.@= The thudding sound was from the branch whacking his rib cage and lungs. Didn't seem to have hurt him but I'm sure he had no kind thoughts for my trail-clearing effort. My "Sorryyyy!" didn't mollify him; he stomped away in a huff. "Huff, huff," quoth he.