As I wonder through the park I see a sight on the farthest hill; a sight that grasps me from afar. A golden field from which towers and translucent structures emerge. I make my way towards it and find a narrow platform. A suspended path of rough timber planks. I decide to jump onto it. When closer to the golden field I come to understand it as a plantation of corn into which I can enter through a small opening on one of its corners. As I enter the maze, the city behind starts to disappear. I am alone. The path is narrow and the corn walls rise above me and into the sky; the wind moves the papery leaves and I can feel them touching my skin. I hear a gentle murmur of distant pursuits – voices, footsteps, but I see no one.