I am always curious when I notice dry twigs on the side of the road that I pass. At first glance, there is nothing special about the dead twigs—barren and with no signs of life. At most, they will be covered with fungus after the rain. But my curiosity was answered several times when I saw another life there: small orb-weaving spiders often build nests there; sparrows that perch for a moment; or solitary wasps and bees that were lost in their solitude. Then, one day, I noticed some neon cuckoo bees perched on a dry twig. I observed what they were doing. Amazingly, they used their free time to sharpen their jaws by biting the twig. Their heads were bent, and their legs and tails were hanging, like a missile that had stuck but failed to explode.
