|I do not want to know what is happening.|
Then yesterday, we had another. My husband and I were sitting at the table pretending we were at a very nice coffee shop, surfing the Internet and sipping amazing coffee. Our dog, Pippi, was lying between our chairs, so our coffee shop was just like home. All was peaceful and calm and then the explosion occurred. We looked up from our computers and stared across the table at each other.
"Earthquake," I said evenly. "Just like last time."
My husband had not felt the last one, having been out of state that day. This one was not as strong, but being closer - like just across to the next peninsula about 6 miles away, and not as deep - it felt and sounded almost the same.
My first brief thought was that something had exploded out of our basement and was now crashing and rumbling through the woods as it escaped. Being experienced in the ways of earthquakes now, though, I knew what it was and immediately filed a report on USGS before it was even recorded there. There was an aftershock that rumbled through about ten minutes later that we could hear, but not feel. The dog was not pleased with any of the earthquakes or aftershocks. She woke up, lifted her head, and, with some concern on her dog face, quietly looked in the direction the rumbling seemed to be headed both times.
In Maine, they have explained that when we have an earthquake, because of the old rocks - the ledge that goes on forever underground here - the earthquake does not have to be of great magnitude to be awe inspiring. The vibrations travel for hundreds of miles and are loud, due to that huge granite base we are sitting upon.
For hours after these earthquakes, our dog was on high alert. She paced back and forth last night, trying to stay as close to my husband as possible all evening. She went down the hall to the office and watched him from the doorway and finally went in and laid down. She is usually content to sleep out by me as I work around the kitchen or play on the computer. But not last night. It seemed she was either concerned about not being able to see both of us in case of another earthquake, or she was actually sensing more aftershocks than we were able to detect.
|I will be right here if you need me.|
In general, she seems a more relaxed today. Maybe we can relax for a while, too. The earthquake aftershocks must be over. She really doesn't care what I'm doing today. Napping 'til noon sounds good all around! I'll open the coffee shop later.