Plague and corn. Kameničná, Žamberk.

I braked my bike on the side of the road, leaning it against a birch tree. He looked around. And he swallowed in surprise. Ropes of corn. Three meters high, dense leaves. Muddy dirt after a night's rain. Well, it will be a search...
I dug into the corn and lost my way after five meters. I was wet from head to toe, weight of mud on my shoes. I spread the cornstalks with ripe canes, they immediately closed behind me. As in…