A Wing and a Prayer

格倫·沃森/Glen Wasson

幾年前的一個(gè)下午，我在山上開墾荒地，接連干了幾個(gè)小時(shí)。此時(shí)，我決定用吃午飯來犒勞自己。我坐到一根圓木上，一邊打開一個(gè)三明治，一邊欣賞著周圍險(xiǎn)峻的山景。只見兩條湍急的小溪匯合到一起，形成了一個(gè)清澈無比、深不見底的水潭，之后，潭水順著一片樹木叢生的峽谷洶涌直瀉而下。

假如不是一只蜜蜂繞著我不停地嗡嗡地飛，我田園詩般的心情必定會(huì)完美至極。那是一只很普通的讓野餐者掃興的蜜蜂。沒有片刻思考，我一下把它趕跑了。

這只蜜蜂非但沒有被嚇到，反而又飛了回米，繞著我嗡嗡地飛了起來。現(xiàn)在，我可沒有耐心來忍耐它了，我猛地一下把它打落在地，一腳踩了下去，它嘎吱一聲被碾進(jìn)了沙土里。

沒過多久，我腳旁邊的沙土里發(fā)生了一次小爆炸，這令我大為震驚。那個(gè)令我感到苦惱的東西從沙土里鉆了出來，用它的翅膀瘋狂地?fù)浯蛑＿@次，我沒有給它留下任何機(jī)會(huì)。我站了起來，用我210磅的體重將這只小蟲子碾進(jìn)了土里。

我再次坐下來開始吃午餐。過了幾分鐘，我覺得腳旁邊有什么東西微微動(dòng)了一下。一只身體遭到破壞卻依然活著的蜜蜂從沙土里有氣無力地鉆了出來。

它的幸存引起了我的興趣，我俯身仔細(xì)看了看它所受的傷害。右邊的翅膀相對(duì)來說還比較完整，然而左邊的翅膀已經(jīng)遭到了重創(chuàng)，就像一張被揉皺的紙。盡管如此，那只蜜蜂還在一刻不停地慢慢地上下活動(dòng)著它的翅膀，就像在估量著它所受的傷害。它還開始修整沾滿了沙子的胸部和腹部。

接下來，蜜蜂將注意力轉(zhuǎn)向了那被折彎的左邊的翅膀，它用腿不停地?fù)崞秸麄€(gè)翅膀，迅速平整了翅膀。在每次整理完后，這只蜜蜂就嗡嗡地?fù)浯蛑岚?，仿佛在檢驗(yàn)升力。這只毫無希望的廢物竟然以為它還能飛起來！我把雙手撐在地上，跪了下去，為的是能更好地觀看這些毫無結(jié)果的努力。經(jīng)過更為仔細(xì)的觀察，我得出結(jié)論：這只蜜蜂死定了——它肯定完了。作為一個(gè)老飛行員，我對(duì)翅膀了解得相當(dāng)透徹。

然而那只蜜蜂對(duì)我高超的學(xué)識(shí)置若罔聞?？瓷先ィ跐u漸恢復(fù)力量，而且加快了修整的步伐。此刻，它那薄紗般的翅膀變得堅(jiān)挺起來，彎曲了的翅脈快要伸直了。

最后，蜜蜂感覺有足夠的信心能夠嘗試飛起來了。隨著一陣嗡嗡聲，它從地面飛了起來，接著一頭撞在了不足3英寸外的沙堆上。這個(gè)小生命遭到了嚴(yán)重的撞擊，它接連翻了幾個(gè)筋斗。接下來，它多次瘋狂地梳理和伸展著翅膀。

這只蜜蜂又一次飛了起來，這次它飛了6英寸之后再次撞倒在另一個(gè)土墩上。顯而易見的是，蜜蜂的翅膀恢復(fù)了升力，可是它尚未掌握好控制方向的機(jī)制。就像一名飛行員想要弄清楚一架生疏的飛機(jī)的特性一樣，它試著作了幾次短途飛行，然而均以屈辱告終。每碰撞一次，那只蜜蜂便會(huì)瘋狂地活動(dòng)起來，來糾正新發(fā)現(xiàn)的結(jié)構(gòu)上的缺陷。

它再一次飛了起來，這一次它越過了沙丘，向著一根樹樁筆直地飛去。它勉強(qiáng)躲過了樹樁，接著放慢飛行的速度，轉(zhuǎn)了幾個(gè)圈，然后在明澈如鏡的水潭上空緩緩飄過，像是在欣賞自己的倒影。那只蜜蜂消失在遠(yuǎn)方之后，我意識(shí)到自己依然跪在地上，并且一直跪了很長時(shí)間。

One afternoon a few summers ago， I had been clearing brush in the mountains for several hours and decided to reward myself with lunch. Sitting on a log， I unwrapped a sandwich and surveyed the rugged scenery.Two turbulent streams joined to form a clear， deep pool before roaring down a heavily wooded canyon.

My idyll would have been perfect had it not been for a persistent bee that began buzzing around me. The bee was of the common variety that plagues picnickers.Without thinking， I brushed it away.

Not the least intimidated， the bee came back and buzzed me again. Now， losing patience， I swatted the pest to the ground and crunched it into the sand with my boot.

Moments later I was startled by a minor explosion of sand at my feet. My tormentor emerged with its wings buzzing furiously.This time I took no chances.I stood up and ground the insect into the sand with all my 210 pounds.

Once more I sat down to my lunch. After several minutes I became aware of a slight movement near my feet.A broken but still living bee was feebly emerging from the sand.

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.

But the bee paid no attention to my superior wisdom. It seemed to be gaining strength and increasing the tempo of its repairs.The bent veins that stiffened the gossamer wing were nearly straight now.

At last the bee felt sufficiently confident to attempt a trial flight. With an audible buzz it released its grip on the earth—and flew into a rise in the sand not more than three inches away.The little creature hit so hard that it tumbled.More frantic smoothing and flexing followed.

Again the bee lifted off， this time flying six inches before hitting another mound. Apparently the bee had regained the lift in its wings but had not mastered the directional controls.Like a pilot learning the peculiarities of a strange airplane， it experimented with short hops that ended ignominiously.After each crash the bee worked furiously to correct the newly discovered structural deficiencies.

Once more it took off， this time clearing the sand but heading straight toward a stump. Narrowly avoiding it， the bee rechecked its forward speed， circled and then drifted slowly over the mirror like surface of the pool as if to admire its own reflection.As the bee disappeared， I realized that I was still on my knees， and I remained on my knees for some time.