in the middle of the night.

(glass of wine being poured)

I look at the date of the last post. that was a long time ago; from a time when life was 'normal'. I doubt anyone visits anymore other than to post spam. which is fine. i'm writing this for me.

this story has several beginnings.

one beginning was once, when we were doing the dishes. i blogged about it, even. i thought it was a ghost, but in fact it was an earthquake. it was the beginning of the awareness. we got prepared.

another beginning is at school. we still had gas heaters in the classrooms so this was many, many cold moons ago. while folk in europe were being drilled for emergencies of a completely different temperature we, too, were learning to jump under our desk. being prepared for earthquakes. we learnt words like tectonic plates; civil defence; faultlines. we talked about The Big One.

another beginning finds us naked in the dark in the middle of a shaky night, holding our confused children as close as we could manage while we waited for our world to stand still. wind that clock back 30 seconds (2 minutes? several hours?) i was woken by the strangest of noises- 10000 birds in flight, light with freedom, but heavy with the knowledge of what was about to come. the noise then changed from light cacophony to heavy rumble, of the waves water rushing beneath the earth before shock waves themselves arrived. i wondered (where did i find the time?) what this all was. i discovered swiftly.

not two weeks post-birth i leapt from my bed and found my daughter, swaddled in her hammock (no doubt swinging), and ran/glided/crawled to the door frame. pascal searched for calix in his room but couldn't find him- he had been shaken from his bed.

naked, i squatted beneath the doorframe while i watched the ghost of a formerly illuminated lightbulb swing in a wild arc.

naked, i breastfed my hungry child while i waited for the world to stand still.

once still the earth seemed eerily quiet. no sounds of bird nor sea. we waited, not really knowing what for, but waiting seemed like a good idea.

within minutes (hours? years?) doors slammed. cars started and drove off. -is there normally this amount of traffic at this time of the night? i asked pascal. -what time of night is it? he replied. but then (of this i am sure) in the darkness we looked at each other and without even mentioning it we knew why everyone was leaving.

my home by the sea, i love you. i love your balmy air; even your keen easterly embraces me. i admire your strength, your continuity.

tsunami?

oh technology you are a blessed companion in my life. i will forever keep you by my side. my mobile phone will always be charged. but any other tools? what use without electricity! i texted friends locally who knew not the risk for they were without power too. i texted mothers in europe who simply panicked for their children and homes.

as my dad said, it was a panic wasted.

we survived the night, huddled in bed while it rocked and the house continued to shake and roll. we woke in the morning to a perfect, cloudless sky on a still, calm day: earthquake weather.