I feel sorry for the dogs. Even they have a sense of shame about having to poo in public

The small dark shape flutters in the breeze. From a distance it looks like it could be an offering to the spirits of ancestors or pagan gods hung in the tree. It swings there a little, as if urging the little buds to break free and announce the spring.

Then you approach and it is what you suspected it was all along: Dogshite. In a small plastic bag tied to a tree.