I didn't stop for a photo because I'm rubbish, but imagine if you will one of North Worcestershire's finest gaping potholes, filled to some unseen depths with an abundance of slowly trickling farm runoff. And a piece of broken fence panel fallen, presumably from the back of a vehicle, across it in a manner far too reminiscent of a hedgehog-bridge to suggest that the universe doesn't have a sense of humour.
I giggled so much I nearly failed to avoid the next gaping pothole.