Liquefaction

I had just fallen asleep when my bed slammed against the wall--moving only an inch or two, but with great force. Urgh. Once I peeled myself off of the doorframe, convinced that no more earth-shakes were coming, I did what I always do in these situations: type usgs.gov into the nearest available computer-with-internet-capabilities and get the relevant info.

It was small, but close, which I why I felt it so strongly. It had an aftershock, which I didn't feel, so I can probably sleep soon.

When I moved to the Midwest, I couldn't figure out why everyone talked about the weather so much until I realized it's because, back there, the weather can KILL YOU. Now back in my hometown, discussions about Richter scales, earth displacement, jerks vs. rolls, quake depth, and soil composition are treated lightly by transplants. We oldtimers just shake our heads at their naivete. Proper respect for said topics will be shaken into them--eventually, and literally.

So, while I've been waiting to see if the quake that woke me was a pre-shock of "the Big One," I found cheery maps like the one below at the usgs (United States Geological Survey--for those of you not living in earthquake country). This one gives, in vivid color, the likelihood that the ground beneath my home will "liquefy" during a major earthquake. Imagine what happens at the beach when you stand on very wet sand: how it slowly turns to "quicksand" and starts to suck you down. Yeah. That's liquefaction.



I'm on the border between "moderate chance" and "no chance." There's no border ground of "minimal chance." Figures.