Beguiled by its survival, I leaned down to survey the damage. The right wing was relatively intact, but the left was crumpled like a piece of paper.Nevertheless, the bee kept exercising the wings slowly up and down, as though assessing the damage.It also began to groom its sand-encrusted thorax and abdomen.
Next the bee turned its attention to the bent left wing, rapidly smoothing the wing by running its legs down the length. After each straightening session, the bee buzzed its wings as if to test the lift.This hopeless cripple thought it could still fly！I got down on my hands and knees to better see these futile attempts.Closer scrutiny confirmed the bee was finished—it must be finished.As a veteran pilot, I knew a good deal about wings.