I've been reading about the terrible event in Padang, Indonesia, the earthquake whose death toll still isn't known. Awful thing.
I've been in small quakes, eight or nine times, and even at low levels, it's an eerie experience.
Growing up in Louisiana, the mud didn't rock and roll. But when we moved to L.A. ... ?
First time, I was sitting in my car, parked, and suddenly the car started vibrating. My first thought was that some kind of animal, a dog, maybe, had somehow wedged itself under the car and was trying to get loose. I alighted from my vehicle to see, and when I put my feet on the ground, realized there wasn't a dog big enough to move the ground itself.
No fear, just wonder. But there weren't falling buildings around me.
Probably had five or six more low-key experiences like that over the three years we lived in SoCal.
In Oregon, in nearly thirty years, I have felt quakes but twice. First one was about five a.m. one spring day. My wife and I woke up with the bed trying to walk across the floor. We knew what it was immediately. Not a lot of damage, though one man was killed when a boulder jolted loose on a hillside and fell on his car.
Second time, I was on a massage table. I started feeling a vibration and I said, "That's an interesting technique." Therapist said, "That not me."
I feel for the folks in Indonesia. Our charity is Doctors Without Borders, or NW Medical Relief. We'll need to send them a contribution.