Earthquake

There was an earthquake here last night. I was nearly asleep, I'd been reading "Snow Crash" by Neal Stephenson and had just laid it aside.

There was no noise, none at all, but something woke me. Suddenly the house shook up and down for several seconds, then seemed to drop down hard, with a "bang" and a hefty thump. Just as suddenly, it stopped. Silence.

It's amazing how quickly one's mind works at such times. As I lay in bed being shaken about, I had already figured out that the building probably wouldn't fall down, that I was therefore safer inside than out in the street where I might be hit by pieces falling off another building, that the major risk was fire due to gas leaks after the quake. I got out of bed, put on a shirt and trousers, slipped into my shoes. I went to the kitchen and sniffed: no gas. I opened the door to the stairway and sniffed: no gas. I went to the window and looked into the street: No fallen roof tiles, no broken windows, no shouting. I watched and waited for a while, but nothing more happened. So I sniffed around once more and went back to bed.

This morning, there is no sign of the earthquake. All windows are intact, there are no new cracks in my walls or ceilings. No paintings fell off their hangers, my bookcases didn't tumble, none of my glassware or bottles tipped.

News reports state that this was a minor quake, only 5.4 on the Richter scale, causing no injuries and little damage. The epicenter was near Freiburg, in the triangle where France, Germany and Switzerland meet, some 120 Km away from here. One thing interests me in retrospect: One reads about birds and animals getting nervous just before earthquakes strike, but that is either untrue or applies only to the epicenter, because my neighbours' pets were all quiet.