Running in the zoo

I have begun going on short runs in the back roads of the zoo.  I am optimistic about it - the air is relatively clean, the view is of the rugged mountainous outskirts of Taipei, and the roads are empty, except for the occasional cartoonish zoo train that trundles by, full of kids.  I want to avoid these trains if I can; I don't want to become an unintentional feature on their probably disappointing, un-cartoony ride through the monotonously overgrown backroads of the Taipei Zoo.

Today was windy and almost cool, almost like an autumn back in North Carolina, without the crisp air, but with an "ah, dried-sweat" relief of passed summer heat.  I went exploring through a tunnel near the Conservation and Research Center and found my way into the gallery of back doors into the zoo exhibits.  As I ran through this surreal landscape of fake weathered boulders abruptly abutting harsh metal cages, I suddenly came upon a giraffe.  It was already watching me as I came around a corner, anticipating this loud runner with mild curiosity, lips frozen absurdly in a misaligned mid-chew.  It stood like a statue, turning only its head in creaky spurts, rotating with me as I ran by.