Bill showed me the papery ball attached to the fence wire. He said “I was strimming the hedge, and when I got to here, they all came pouring out. I got stung ten times!” I was looking for the best angle to photograph the wasps’ nest, and I gently pulled a piece of vegetation out of the way. There was an angry hum and an immediate outpouring of wasps, so I took to my heels – Bill was a trifle slower, so he got stung again.

A while later, I photographed the nest, carefully, with no interference from the wasps, then I explained the new concept to Bill. “I’ll come back with my extra long USB leads, and after setting up the camera on the tripod, I’ll sit thirty yards away up the road with my laptop connected to the camera. You twitch the hedge and leg it, and I’ll get the shot of the wasps pouring out of the nest.”

Bill’s response showed that he did not have what it takes to make it as a wildlife photographer’s assistant, so when I returned a few days later, I brought a ball of string as well as my photo-technological gear. I intended to tie it to the barbed wire so that I could give it a tug to annoy the wasps from a safe distance, and then photograph them emerging mob-handed, using the laptop to trigger the camera.

Burdened with gear, I walked up the lane beside Bill’s neatly strimmed hedge to the point where the verge remained rank and overgrown. To my surprise and disappointment, the papery globe no longer existed. The top of the nest remained in place, a couple of fragments rested on the lower strand of barbed wire, and a few more lay on the ground. About half a dozen disconsolate wasps still hung around the bits and pieces of their home.

I’d seen this sort of thing before, and was pretty sure I knew who the culprits were. They came most evenings to Bill’s wood to take advantage of the fare he put out for them.

I stomped back up the lane and met Bill outside his house. “Your bloody badgers have ate my wasps’ nest!” I shouted in disgust. For some reason, Bill did not share my disappointment and frustration, but seemed to view the fate of my wasps with equanimity, perhaps even with a touch of hilarity.

And so there is another untaken photograph in my mind’s eye. Does a swarm of wasps emerging from their nest look as fearsome as I imagine? I don’t know, but I will take the first opportunity to find out when I next come across a wasps’ nest, before a badger can intervene and thwart me.