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 remarkable 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 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 lots of people like the buzzard, the bat and the
bee. They are struggling about with all their problems and frustrations, not
realizing that the answer is right there above them.
