You decide to take paths at random, going wherever your whims guide you. Time passes as you stride above the carpet of old leaves, your mind on nothing except for the thrill of finding whatever lies behind the next turn. It's only a minor thing, but you feel alive, doing something different from your mundane routine gives you a rush, and soon you are jogging through the maze, as lost in your reverie as you are physically.
A few hours pass and soon your sense of adventure starts to wane. The sinking sun now fails to shed light directly into the passages among the high hedges. "Oh, great," you think to yourself, "I finally get to have some fun, and now I'm stuck in a hedge maze. I don't wanna' be stuck here after dark." You tell yourself you don't want to stumble around sharp branches in the dark, but you also feel a little disturbed at the thought of staying much longer. You feel isolated now. You were happy to escape the world outside, but the maze now feels... odd. You can't fully explain it, but there's something not quite right about the climate of the maze now. It's as if the maze objects to people being inside it after dusk.
An hour crawls by as you try to find an exit in the deepening gloom. You're on the verge of truly freaking out when you see something. A light up ahead! You pick up your pace despite your weariness and find a path illuminated along its length by ornate iron lamps on posts along the walls, a flame burning like a beacon behind the frosted glass. You take heart, this must mean your close to the exit!
You follow the lighted path for another half-hour, but you fail to find the exit. Only the uncaring hedges fill your vision. You admit to yourself that you're hopelessly lost. The path you followed twisted so many times and went on far longer than you expected. You're pretty sure that you explored more hedge maze that could possibly fit in the park.
Tired, hungry, and beaten, you take another turn and fall...