Alpacas in the Rain

It was torrential rain and I was drenched within moments. My clammy jacket stuck to my arms, my chest felt tight making me breathless and the wind whipped my buff making my face cold. My knee started hurting. To compound the misery I’d wanted to do 10 miles today and I just wasn’t in any state to do it. My backpack thumped against my back, every thump a punctuation that I wasn’t getting the job done.

 

I ran on. The rain dripped down my neck and strands of hair escaped from my ponytail and stuck to my forehead.

 

As I ran I saw a blackbird having a bath in a puddle. It was dipping its wings and shaking them off in a flurry of water droplets. A squirrel clung to the thin branches of a tree pulling the orange berries from it, knocking the rain drops from the few leaves still clinging to the twigs. Looking over the fence as I passed, I saw the alpacas clustered together at the top of the field, sheltering from the downpour under the trees while still managing to look haughty aristocratic. ‘Rain doesn’t bother alpacas’ their expressions seemed to say.

 

I was wet, cold and sore. But it was still good to be running.