The corn maze amazes. So clever! So complicated! So scary.
Clever? In a single summer the American farmer can devise the sort of cunning landscape it takes the British gardener a lifetime to achieve. Corn bolts from seed to sky-high in no time. Boxwood, shown proper deference, occasionally deigns to stretch. Hence the hedgerow, diversion of the estate set. And the corn maze _ open all fall to anyone with 9 bucks and nerve.
Complicated? And how. Once the maze featured an entrance, a zig, a zag and an exit. Followed by cider, doughnuts and a bin full of ogre-nose gourds. Now, it's a feat of civil engineering _ all switchbacks, dead ends and checkpoints that form an image _ if viewed from space.
Scary. Have you navigated a corn labyrinth lately? Have you sensed the husks rustling, the crows laughing, the tweens sneering? Have you found yourself, 9 miles into a 2-mile loop, gnawing on a desiccated yellow cob, rattling the prickly corn bars and shouting, "Let me out!?" No? Good for you. Me, I'm sticking with corncakes.
