I lived in California for thirteen years but still got freaked out by a little bitty earthquake in Winston-Salem this morning. I was freaked out mainly because I didn’t know what the hell had happened. It didn’t feel like any California earthquake I ever experienced; it was just one loud boom and a thump that shook the whole house. I sort of thought one of the big trees out back had fallen, perhaps into the living room.
Afterward, I assumed it had probably been a quake, but there were no panic announcements on TV, so I dismissed it until I saw it on the news a few minutes ago.
It’s strange that we’ve had about five of these in the past month, one of which apparently scared hell out of my parents when they were checking up on the house while Mark and I were gone. I don’t remember this being such an active fault area when I was a kid.
