Written by the team behind Puzzlify. Puzzlify is our product, so weigh what follows with that in mind. We've tried to make this useful even if you never use it. We're not affiliated with any community archaeology project, local archaeology or history society, the Council for British Archaeology or its Young Archaeologists' Clubs, Archaeology Scotland, the Portable Antiquities Scheme, Passport in Time, any museum, university, heritage body, landowner, council, school or charity. Nothing here is legal, heritage, safeguarding or privacy advice. Check your own project's guidance on gifts, photos, finds, site locations, children and volunteers' details.
It's half past eight on a grey Saturday morning in August, and a field behind a farm on the edge of a village is already busy. A woman called Helen, a retired maths teacher who has directed the village's community dig for six summers, is standing at the edge of a trench with a mug of tea and a site plan in a plastic sleeve. Around her, a dozen volunteers are pulling back the tarpaulins they weighed down with tyres on Thursday night. Underneath is a rectangle of brown earth, ten metres by four, with neat vertical sides, string lines and a little forest of nails holding labels.
A man called Gareth, who drives a delivery van during the week, is kneeling on a foam pad at the far end with a trowel worn down to half its size. He's been working on the same patch of darker soil for two days, and today he thinks it might be the edge of a ditch. Next to him, a sixteen-year-old called Priya is filling a bucket with spoil and writing a context number on a tag. By the gate, under a gazebo, a retired nurse called Marion is laying out washing-up bowls, toothbrushes and seed trays for the finds team. Behind her, a farmer called Tom is leaning on a quad bike, pretending not to be interested and asking every half an hour whether they've found anything yet.
At eleven, Gareth calls Helen over. In the side of the trench, sitting in the dark soil, is a small piece of pottery with a thumb-pressed rim. Everyone stops. Someone fetches the camera and the scale bar. Someone else fetches the finds tray. For about ten minutes, the whole field is quiet in a way that only people who have dug will understand.
By four, it's raining again. The tarpaulins go back on. The tools go back in the farmer's barn. The finds go home with Marion in a labelled box, to be washed on her kitchen table on Monday. Helen stays behind to finish the day's notes in the car.
If you've ever volunteered on a community dig, visited an open day or watched a village discover something about itself, you'll know how much of it rests on volunteers. This guide is about saying thank you to them: in words first, and, if it fits, with a small extra: a photo of the trench, the finds tray or the field at the end of the season, turned into a private digital jigsaw, with your note at the end.
Who we mean
Community archaeology projects come in many shapes: a village dig, a local society's annual excavation, a test-pit weekend in people's back gardens, a survey of a hillfort, a field-walking project after ploughing, or a long-running research project that welcomes volunteers. Most have some version of these roles:
- the director or project lead, often a volunteer themselves, who plans the work, holds the permissions and writes the report;
- the site and trench supervisors, who teach, check, guide and keep the records straight;
- the diggers and trowellers, from first-timers to people who have dug for forty years;
- the finds team, who wash, dry, mark, bag and catalogue every sherd and nail;
- the sieving and sampling volunteers, who process buckets of soil for tiny finds, seeds and bones;
- the surveyors and planners, with their tapes, levels, drawing boards and GPS;
- the site recorders, who fill in context sheets and photograph every layer;
- the geophysics team, who walk the field in lines with instruments before anyone digs;
- the open day guides and the schools and youth club volunteers, who explain it all to visitors;
- the post-excavation volunteers, who spend the winter sorting, recording and archiving;
- the landowner, the farmer or the householder who said yes;
- and the people who run the tea tent, which is the most important trench of all.
Many volunteers do several of these. Some have been on every season since the first. Some joined for a weekend and never left.
The words matter most
The best thank-you for any volunteer is a specific, honest message. Something like:
- "Thank you for teaching me how to hold a trowel. I still think about that first afternoon."
- "I know how many forms and permissions it took to dig that field. Thank you for doing them."
- "Washing pottery on a Sunday morning with you was the best part of my summer."
- "You made my daughter want to be an archaeologist. I'm not sure whether to thank you or apologise."
Say what they did, what it meant to you, and, if you can, a small detail that shows you noticed: the careful drawings, the patience with beginners, the year the finds team washed four thousand sherds. That's the gift. Everything else is optional.
If you're on the project team yourself, a thank-you in the season report, the newsletter or at the end-of-season talk matters too. Name people where they're happy to be named. Volunteers on digs often say the thing they remember most is being trusted: given their own square, their own context number, their own find.
Who might send one
A photo jigsaw with a note can suit:
- a volunteer thanking the director or supervisor who taught them;
- a director thanking a long-serving volunteer, or the whole team at the end of a season;
- a family thanking the volunteers who ran the children's activities at the open day;
- a teacher or pupils thanking the project for a school visit;
- a local society thanking the landowner or farmer who allowed the dig;
- a householder thanking the team who dug a test pit in their garden;
- a museum volunteer thanking the finds team for their careful work;
- someone who has moved away and misses the summer digs.
It suits people who like a small, personal thing more than another mug, and it suits projects that would rather spend their money on radiocarbon dates than presents.
Gifts, digs and good manners
Some practical points:
- Project money is for the project. Many digs are run on small grants, membership fees and donations. If you're thanking volunteers personally, pay for it yourself.
- Not everyone wants the spotlight. Some volunteers are happy to be named in the report. Others would rather stay in the trench. Ask, or follow their lead.
- Keep it modest. A note and a small gesture is more comfortable than something expensive. Puzzlify is a small digital gift, not a lavish present.
- Protect the site. Some sites are vulnerable to illegal metal detecting and looting. Never share a photo, a caption or a note that gives away the location of a site that isn't public, and check with the director before using any photo of the trench outside the team.
- Finds belong to the record. Finds may belong to the landowner, a museum or the project archive, and some may need to be reported under local law. Don't use a photo of a find before it's been recorded, and ask the director before using one at all.
- Respect the dead. If a project has uncovered human remains, never use a photo of them for a gift, a puzzle or anything casual.
- Think about children. Many projects welcome families, youth clubs and schools. Keep children's faces out unless their families have agreed and the project's policy allows it.
When to send it
Good moments include:
- the last day of the season, when the trench is backfilled and the field looks like nothing happened;
- the end-of-season talk or party in the village hall;
- when the season report, or a radiocarbon date, comes back;
- when a find goes on display in the local museum;
- the AGM of the local archaeology or history society;
- the first planning meeting for next year, as a way of saying "thank you for coming back";
- when a long-serving volunteer or director steps down;
- any time you've been meaning to say it and haven't.
If the season was a hard one, with rain, a flooded trench or not much found, a thank-you can mean even more. Archaeologists know that a blank trench is still a result, but it doesn't always feel like one.
Why a jigsaw can fit
Archaeology is, in a way, a jigsaw without a box: small pieces of evidence, slowly fitted together, with most of the picture missing. Finds teams literally reassemble broken pots. Supervisors piece together layers, cuts and fills to tell a story about a place.
A photo jigsaw is a gentle nod to that. The person solving it puts the picture together slowly, piece by piece, and at the end they find your note. It's quiet, it's personal, and it takes a few minutes of attention, which is something many dig volunteers will appreciate after a summer on their knees.
If you're thanking the director
The director carries the weight of the whole thing: permissions, insurance, the landowner, the funding, the risk assessment, the volunteers, the records and, eventually, the report. A good photo is the field at the start of the season, before the first turf comes off, or the open trench in evening light at the end. Your note could mention a decision they made, a moment they shared, or simply that you know how much was behind it.
If you're thanking a supervisor
Supervisors are the ones who kneel beside a nervous beginner and say "keep going, you're doing it right". A photo of their trench, cleaned and ready for the final photograph, with the scale bar and the north arrow, can make a lovely puzzle. So can a photo of their drawing board or their battered site notebook, with nothing confidential visible. Your note could mention the thing they taught you.
If you're thanking the diggers
Diggers do the hard, patient, muddy work. A photo of the row of kneeling pads and buckets at the edge of the trench, or the tools laid out on a tarp at the start of the day, says thank you without needing a face in it. For the whole team, one puzzle shared with a note from the director can work well.
If you're thanking the finds team
The finds team often work on a kitchen table or under a gazebo, washing, drying and labelling for hours. A photo of a finds tray with sherds drying on newspaper, with the director's permission and no labels or locations visible, can be a beautiful, detailed puzzle. So can the row of washing-up bowls and toothbrushes. Your note could mention a total: "Four thousand sherds. Every one of them clean. Thank you."
If you're thanking the sieving team
Sieving and sampling is one of the least glamorous jobs on site, and one of the most important: it's where the tiny beads, seeds and fish bones turn up. A photo of the sieve with a little pile of earth, or the flotation tank on a sunny afternoon, can work well. Your note could be simple: "Thank you for finding the things the rest of us missed."
If you're thanking the surveyors and recorders
Surveyors, planners and recorders turn a hole in the ground into a permanent record. Without them, a dig is just digging. A photo of the level and staff in a field, a planning frame over a section, or the neat stack of context sheets in a box (without any readable location or personal details) makes a good puzzle for them.
If you're thanking the open day and schools volunteers
The volunteers who run open days, school visits and youth club sessions are the reason a dig becomes something the whole community owns. A photo of the empty finds-handling table, the welcome sign by the gate or the children's mini-trench before the visitors arrive can work well. Keep children's faces out unless families have agreed.
If you're thanking the landowner
The farmer or householder who said yes made everything else possible, often at some cost to their field or their lawn. A photo of their field with the trench open, or the same field restored after backfilling, can be a lovely "then and now" pair. Keep house numbers, farm names and anything that identifies the location out of the frame if the site isn't public.
If you live with a dig volunteer
If you share a house with someone who spends every summer in a trench, you'll know about the muddy kneepads in the hall, the trowel in the glovebox and the sherds drying on the windowsill. A puzzle of their trench, or their tools, with a note that says "I'm proud of you, and please wipe your boots", might be just right.
When a long-serving volunteer steps down
Many projects have someone who has been there since the very first test pit, who remembers the year the trench flooded, who knows where every archive box lives. When that person steps down, a thank-you matters.
A good photo might be a scan of the project's first site plan, an old photo from the first season, or their favourite trench. A higher piece count, like 130 or 252, can suit a slow, reflective solve. Your note could collect messages from several volunteers, or simply say what you'll miss.
In memory of a volunteer
If a project is remembering someone who has died, a puzzle can be a gentle way to share a memory with their family or the team, but only if the family would welcome it. Ask first, keep it quiet and personal, and choose a photo the family recognises: their trench, their kneeling pad, their place at the finds table. Some projects name a trench, a trophy or a season after a volunteer; a photo of that can be a fitting choice.
For digs and projects elsewhere
The same ideas work for:
- community archaeology projects and local archaeology and history societies across the UK and Ireland, including Young Archaeologists' Clubs and test-pit weekends;
- volunteer finds recording and museum archive projects;
- volunteer field schools, site stewardship programmes and Passport in Time projects in the United States;
- community archaeology and heritage volunteer groups in Canada, Australia and New Zealand;
- university projects that welcome local volunteers;
- field-walking, geophysics, hedgerow and historic building survey groups.
Every one of them depends on volunteers, and every one has someone who stays behind to put the tarpaulins back on.
Photo ideas and consent
Good photos for a dig thank-you include:
- the field at dawn, before the first turf comes off;
- the open trench, cleaned, with a scale bar and nobody in it;
- the tools laid out on a tarp at the start of the day;
- the finds tray, with permission and no labels visible;
- the sieve, the flotation tank or the washing-up bowls;
- the drawing board, level and planning frame;
- the gazebo and tea urn, which every volunteer will recognise;
- the field restored after backfilling, at the end of the season.
Keep out of the frame:
- anything that reveals the location of a site that isn't public, including signs, landmarks, farm names and GPS data in the photo file;
- human remains, always;
- finds that haven't been recorded, or that the director hasn't agreed you can use;
- children's faces, unless every family has agreed and the project's policy allows it;
- volunteers who haven't agreed to be in the photo;
- context sheets, finds labels, registers and anything with names, phone numbers or locations;
- house numbers and car registration plates.
If the photo has people in it, ask them first. A photo with no people at all, just the trench or the tools, is often the easiest and best choice.
Getting the JPG right
Puzzlify works from a JPG. A few practical tips:
- a phone photo is fine; use the original file rather than a screenshot if you can;
- crop to the part that matters, such as the trench or the finds tray, before you upload;
- landscape photos usually make the most comfortable puzzles on a phone turned sideways, and trenches and fields are naturally wide;
- brown earth can look all the same in a puzzle; photos with some colour, like blue tarpaulins, yellow buckets, green grass or a red-and-white scale bar, are easier and more satisfying to solve;
- if you're scanning an old site plan or a photo from the first season, scan it at a good resolution and straighten it;
- if the site isn't public, check that the photo file doesn't carry location data, or share a copy with the location data removed;
- remove anything private before you upload, even if it's small: a label, a name badge, a number plate in the lane.
Privacy, an optional PIN, and saying it's from you
The puzzle is private: it's shared as a link, not posted on a public board. You can add an optional PIN so only someone who knows it can open it, which is useful if you're sending it through a volunteers' group chat or a society email list. Even so, treat the photo as if it might be forwarded, and keep anything private, including the site's location, out of it.
Some people are wary of unexpected links, and rightly so. Say who it's from and what it is in the message itself: "This is a little jigsaw of the trench, with a note at the end. It's from me, and it's safe to open."
How many pieces?
| Pieces | Feels like | Typical time |
|---|---|---|
| 24 | a single test pit | a few minutes |
| 48 | one clean section | around 5–10 minutes |
| 80 | a morning on site | around 10–20 minutes |
| 130 | a whole trench | around 20–40 minutes |
| 252 | ten seasons of digging | an hour or more |
If you're not sure, 48 or 80 pieces suits most people on a phone. A photo that's mostly brown soil gets hard quickly at high piece counts, so start lower unless there's plenty of colour.
The leaderboard: only for a group
If you're sending the puzzle to the whole dig team, the optional leaderboard can add some light competition, which diggers usually enjoy. Ask first, and turn it off for anything personal or in memory.
A few note ideas
- "To Helen: six seasons, one flooded trench and a ditch nobody believed in. Thank you for our summers."
- "To Gareth: two days on one patch of soil, and you were right. Thank you for your patience."
- "To Marion and the finds team: every sherd clean, every bag labelled. Thank you."
- "To Tom: thank you for the field, the barn and the questions. We found something."
- "From Class 5: thank you for letting us dig in the mini-trench. We found a button."
- "To my husband: thank you for every muddy Saturday, and for the trowel in the glovebox."
(Change the names, and keep anything personal or identifying, including the site, out of a puzzle that may be shared.)
How to make one (about a minute of setup)
- Open Puzzlify's puzzle maker in a browser: https://puzzlify.app/en/puzzle-maker/
- Upload a JPG from the dig.
- Pick a piece count.
- Write your note; it appears when the last piece goes in.
- Add a PIN if you'd like, and choose whether to show a leaderboard.
- Preview it for free. Publish only when you're happy.
- Send the link by message or email, print it as a QR code in a card, or hand it over at the end-of-season talk.
Honest pricing and notes
Making and previewing a puzzle is free. You only pay when you publish the link to send it: one credit is EUR 3.99, three credits are EUR 8.99, and Plus is EUR 14.99 a year for ten credits, which can make sense if a project wants to thank several volunteers. The person you send it to doesn't need an account or an app; they just open the link in a browser.
This is a digital jigsaw you play on a screen. It isn't a cardboard puzzle in the post or a printed product, and it isn't connected to any dig, society, museum, university or heritage body. It's also not puzzlify.io (a chess site), Puzzlit, Puzzly or Puzzify.
Ideas that are not a puzzle
Honestly, some of the best thank-yous for dig volunteers are free:
- a handwritten card, left in the finds tent or posted after the season;
- signing up to volunteer next season, or helping with post-excavation over the winter;
- going to the end-of-season talk, and bringing a friend;
- joining the local archaeology or history society, or paying a membership for someone else;
- visiting the museum when the finds go on display;
- telling the funders, the council or the local paper what the volunteers did, if they're happy with it;
- for a long-serving volunteer, a small book of messages and old site photos from people who dug with them;
- a tin of homemade flapjack for the tea tent, which never fails.
If a photo puzzle feels right as well, choose a photo of the trench, the tools or the finds tray, keep faces, finds that aren't yours to share and anything that reveals the site out of the frame, pick a piece count and add your note. You only pay if you decide to send it. You can start a free preview at https://puzzlify.app/en/puzzle-maker/.
Whatever you send, the most important part is the sentence that sounds like you, written to the person who got the permissions, taught the trowel, washed the sherds, sieved the buckets, drew the sections and put the tarpaulins back on in the rain, so that next summer, the first turf would come off again.
Written by the small team behind Puzzlify (info@puzzlify.app). Not legal, heritage, safeguarding or privacy advice. Check your own project's guidance on gifts, photos, finds, site locations, children and volunteers' details.