
There
is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying.
The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground
and miss. Pick a nice day, it suggests, and try it.
The first part is easy. All it requires is simply the ability
to throw yourself forward with all your weight, and willingness
not to mind that it's going to hurt. That is, it's going to
hurt if you fail to miss the ground. Most people fail to miss
the ground, and if they are really trying properly, the likelihood
is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard.
Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, which presents
the difficulties.
One problem is that you have to miss the ground accidentally.
It's no good deliberately intending to miss the ground because
you won't. You have to have your attention suddenly distracted
by something else when you're halfway there, so that you are
no longer thinking about falling, or about the ground, or
about how much it's going to hurt if you fail to miss it.
It is notoriously difficult to prise your attention away from
these three things during the split second you have at your
disposal. Hence most people's failure, and their eventual
disillusionment with this exhilarating and spectacular sport.
If, however, you are lucky enough to have your attention momentarily
distracted at the crucial moment by, say, a gorgeous pair
of legs (tentacles, pseudopodia, according to phyllum and/or
personal inclination) or a bomb going off in your vicinity,
or by suddenly spotting an extremely rare species of beetle
crawling along a nearby twig, then in your astonishment you
will miss the ground completely and remain bobbing just a
few inches above it in what might seem to be a slightly foolish
manner.
This is a moment for superb and delicate concentration. Bob
and float, float and bob. Ignore all considerations of your
own weight and simply let yourself waft higher. Do not listen
to what anybody says to you at this point because they are
unlikely to say anything helpful.
They are most likely to say something along the lines of,
'Good God, you can't possibly be flying!'
It is vitally important not to believe them or they will suddenly
be right.
Waft higher and higher. Try a few swoops, gentle ones at first,
then drift above the treetops breathing regularly. DO NOT
WAVE AT ANYBODY.
When you have done this a few times you will find the moment
of distraction rapidly becomes easier and easier to achieve.
You will then learn all sorts of things about how to control
your flight, your speed, your manoeuvrability, and the trick
usually lies in not thinking too hard about whatever you want
to do, but just allowing it to happen as if it was going to
anyway.You will also learn about how to land properly, which
is something you will almost certainly cock up, and cock up
badly, on your first attempt.
There are private flying clubs you can join which help you
achieve the all-important moment of distraction. They hire
people with surprising bodies or opinions to leap out from
behind bushes and exhibit and/or explain them at the critical
moments. Few genuine hitch-hikers will be able to afford to
join these clubs, but some may be able to get temporary employment
at them.
Douglas Adams, 'The Hitch-Hikers Guide To The Galaxy,'