The rain threatened. The skies were high with cloud whisked up by a sudden, belligerent breeze that revealed, in flashes, its dark intent. People, sans umbrellas or raincoats, hurried home — some from work, some to work. Streets were jammed with traffic; tempers frayed, people were anxious to get to someplace dry and safe. The rank odours of petrochemical exhaust mingled with the welcome mineral scent of petrichor.
And then something small, tiny and determined squiggled across the road in a purposeful quest to get to the other side.
This is that moment.
Founder-editor of The Green Ogre, Beej began this blog as a solo writing project in 2006. A communications professional, he has worked as a corporate storyteller, journalist, travel writer, cartoonist and photo-blogger. He is an active birder and citizen science enthusiast.
Latest posts by Bijoy Venugopal (see all)
- TL;DR – Why did the wintering Grey Wagtail sing? - February 9, 2025
- Pranayama with Bar-headed Geese – A Pilgrimage in Gadag - January 10, 2025
- 2024 – The Year The Green Ogre Breathed Again! - December 29, 2024
