If you put a buzzard in a pen six or eight feet square and entirely
open at the top, the bird, in spite of his ability to fly, will be an
absolute prisoner. The reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight
from the ground with a run of ten or twelve feet. Without space to run,
as is his habit, he will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a
prisoner for life in a small jail with no top.
The ordinary bat that flies
around at night, a remarkably nimble creature in the air, cannot take
off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground,
all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully,
until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself
into the air. Then, at once, it takes off like a flash.
A Bumblebee if dropped into an
open tumbler, it will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out.
It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to
find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way
where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.
In many ways, there are many people like the buzzard, the bat, and the
bumblebee. They struggle about with all their problems and
frustrations, not realizing that the answer is right there "above" them.
