My day job is deconstructing buildings for re-use and salvage. One of the few good things about it is occasionally finding "treasures," things that may not be of much monetary value, but they tell me something about the structure or the people who used it. At the last site, a former Catholic church, I found a shoe sole, a broken statue of Mary, and a whoooole bunch of empty beer bottles in the crawlspace under the floor.
On today's job, a log cabin in the woods, I was pulling up subflooring and found the remains of a rabbit that a stray cat (who we'd seen bolting from the crawlspace as we started work) had been eating.
Sometimes "treasure" has a rather loose definition.