Which are you?
The Eagle(a fable)
An ecology professor hiked through the Adirondacks, studying and photographing the beauties of Nature, in which he found Truth. Not too far from Wanakena, on a back-country dirt road, he saw a sign, “Fresh Eggs: Chickens Are Us!” This business is pretty far off the main road, he mused, so guess I’ll study his operation.The proprietor, in straw hat and bib overalls stood at the wire fence, observing his birds as the professor approached. “Howdy,” offered the farmer. “How do you do?” the hiker responded. “You have a lot of chickens here.”“Yes,” the man responded, “I got Rhode Island Reds, White Leghorns, Plymouth Rocks and a few Arucanas. They keep me supplied with eggs and even a little meat when they no longer can produce, and, most important, they make me some money.
”The professor noted a larger, rather strange chicken in the back of the pen, a bird happily pecking away at the cracked corn that the farmer had strewn. Looking closer, the man noted that it was no chicken at all—it was an eagle! “Why, that’s no chicken, it’s an eagle!” he said to the farmer.“Yup, I got him young and raised him as a chicken. He don’t know no difference, and he’s content to live on handouts.”“But that’s not in accord with his nature!” exclaimed the idealistic teacher.“Yup, but he don’t know no better,” said the farmer, grinning.“But, he’s got to be an eagle,” replied the astonished professor, “everything in Nature has to be what it is, not what others want them to be!”“Nope. He’s too happy here. He’ll never be an eagle; he thinks he’s just like all the others in the pen,” came the smug response.“That can’t be,” said the hiker. “Why, I bet you fifty bucks I can teach him that he’s an eagle!” “Haw, haw!” replied the farmer. “You city-slickers think you know everything, but this critter is set for life. He’ll always be a chicken. Nevertheless, I’ll take you up on that bet,” said the farmer. “Here—here’s a carry-cage. Take him for a week and see what you can do. But, at the end of the seven days, you’d better bring him back—with the fifty bucks. Even if he don’t lay no eggs, he’s mine. He always will be, ‘cause you can’t change him. His true place is behind the wire; that’s how I raised him.”
The farmer reached into the pen, snagged the eagle and placed it in the cage. Promising to be back in a week, the professor strode off, back to his wilderness campsite.Returned to his tent, the professor immediately set the bird free. At first, the creature was reluctant to emerge from the cage, but with coaxing, ambled out and stood looking questioningly at the teacher. The bird took a few steps and looked up again. He scratched the ground and made a few tentative pecks upon the soil, but found not even seeds. Again, he looked at the teacher. This won’t do, thought the man. He gave some dried bread crusts to the bird, which gratefully gobbled them up. Putting the bird back into its cage with a canteen cup of water for the night, the man resolved to try an experiment the next day.
Arising in the next morning’s pre-dawn darkness, the professor carried bird and cage to the top of a nearby mountain. At the summit, he opened the cage and placed the eagle upon his forearm. The bird’s talons dug deeply into his flesh and the man was glad to be wearing a thick jacket over his sweatshirt. The light grew rapidly, and just before 6 a.m. the sun displayed its brilliance above the mountains to the east. The bird glanced at the illumination and, shuddering, turned away. Just briefly the creature moved its wings. Great! He’s going to fly, thought the teacher. “Fly!” he urged out loud. Once more the bird moved its wings, but then jumped down onto the ground, searching for seeds. For a while it pecked fruitlessly at the ground, found and snapped up a cricket, then looked up beseechingly at the man. This is going to be a tough struggle, the professor concluded. He re-caged the bird and trudged back down the mountain to his campsite.
Early on the second morning, the ecologist once more climbed to the summit of the mountain, opened the cage, placing the eagle once more upon his forearm. As the sun began its ascent over the eastern mountains, the bird shuddered and extended its wings almost four feet, brushing the professor’s head. Now he’s going to do it, the man exulted. “Eagle! You are an eagle, the king of the Adirondack skies! Spread your wings and fly!” he commanded. But the bird again hopped to the ground, where he looked up wonderingly at the man. A field mouse ran by and the bird killed and consumed it immediately. Damn! The farmer might just be right, concluded the teacher. He re-caged the bird and took it downhill to its daily feeding of bread crusts and water, a sad diet for the king of the skies.
On the third morning, resolved to reach his goal or surrender bird and money to the farmer, the professor discarded the cage at the campsite and carried the eagle once more to the mountain summit upon his arm. A breeze was blowing from the west and the bird raised its head, facing into the wind. The sky in the east brightened and once more, stroking the back feathers of the bird, the professor said, “Eagle! You are an eagle and not a slave bird. You must no longer live on handouts from others. Spread your wings and fly. Become again what you always were!”As the first rays of morning sunlight fell upon the bird’s head feathers, the breeze stirred more strongly and the eagle shuddered to its core. The great wings were extended to their full six feet and the creature made a sharp noise, almost a cry of agony. The sun rose fully above the eastern crest and once more, the professor commanded, “Eagle—you are an eagle, not a tame bird! You are lord of all the earth beneath you—the skies are your true habitat. Claim your destiny and become again what you have always been!The bird hopped briefly upon the arm, caught its balance and settled. Then it hopped more determinedly, spread it wings fully again and threw itself from the teacher’s arm with an anguished cry. It glided down the mountainside on the freshening breeze, then caught a thermal current and soared up above the scientist’s head and away into the skies. It gave three piercing shrieks and flew away into the light of a new day.
Brothers and sisters, we are all eagles. We have become too comfortable taking handouts from the power-brokers in our society. In the process, we have abdicated our true purpose, which has always been to look into The Light, discover the truth of our being, and fly toward that. Don’t remain with the chickens. Fly today on your own wings!
Copyright © 2007, David J. Pitkin, Aurora Publications,
Chestertown, NY, 12817 USA
http://www.afterworld.info/ 
Tue Oct 19, 2010 3:41 pm