16/02/2026
A fairly typical February scene here at the moment.
The sky has been that unrelenting shade of grey for what feels like weeks now, the ground is properly churned up, and the alpacas are various degrees of soggy — although they seem far less concerned about that than I am.
They’re all gathered around the low trough this morning, heads down and chewing steadily, completely focused on the job in hand. It’s one of those ordinary, repetitive farm moments that probably wouldn’t make a postcard, but it says far more about real alpaca life than the sunny photographs ever could.
With this much rain the troughs need shifting regularly onto slightly firmer ground, otherwise we just end up creating a muddy crater that benefits no one. So that will be today’s small logistical adjustment. Farming in February is rarely dramatic, it’s more about steady observation and quiet course corrections.
What always strikes me, though, is how settled they remain as long as the routine is familiar. Wind, rain, drizzle, it doesn’t particularly trouble them. Fresh feed, consistent checks, and their herd around them, and they carry on quite contentedly.
It’s not glamorous, but it’s honest, and it’s very much Rhyndaston in winter.