I was standing by the washing machine, talking to my husband about the yard project we were attempting to pull off in the sweltering heat when the rumbling started. I figured our finicky front loader was shuddering from the weight of an off-kilter load of jeans and towels. The dogs ran to the front door and started barking their heads off. “Must be a big truck coming down our street,” Mike said as a loud banging noise filled the hallway.
And then it was done. No truck. The laundry was still spinning around and the dogs let out a few more barks and then quieted down. We looked at each other. Did the huge Ponderosa pine growing through our porch suddenly bite the dust? We peeked around the corner and it was still there outside the living room window. Earthquake? Mike headed to his computer to look online, and a short time later was showing me the map on the U.S. Geological Survey website pinpointing a 3.8 quake with the epicenter in Chino Valley.
This is the second earthquake I’ve experienced in my life, and both of them have happened while living in Prescott. My first one was in 2014, if I’m remembering correctly, fairly late in the evening. I was helping a friend in Minnesota edit a book she was publishing and we were exchanging emails and corrections. Mike was snoring away upstairs when I heard a loud thump and thought the floor shook a little. “Are you okay?” I called upstairs, figuring he’d gotten up for a bathroom break and tripped on one of the dogs. Before he had the chance to answer, the kitchen chandelier swayed and I could swear the corner of the house felt like it lifted up and flopped back down.
But it wasn’t, and Mike continued sleeping, as did the dogs, and for just a few minutes, I thought I might have imagined the whole thing. And just like last Sunday, the Internet started to fill with people asking other people if they felt something shaking. Soon, an earthquake tracking site confirmed what we were all wondering, and I emailed my friend and let her know we had just survived our first earthquake.
We’ve grown used to the ease of searching for and finding answers about what is happening in the world around us. Whether it’s social media posts, news sites, or weather apps, we find out quickly when there’s a fire, flood, earthquake, tornado, or some other natural disaster heading our way.
The other night, we were sitting on our porch, enjoying the cooler night air and watching the stars. We saw a shooting star and the flashing lights from airplanes as they floated silently above us. Suddenly, from behind a stand of tall pines, a bright streak of flashing lights began spreading across the dark sky, drawing a thick white line as it moved. After a few seconds of confusion, we guessed it was a Starlink satellite launch and found a website that confirmed it.
As the satellites faded out of view, I couldn’t help but wonder how few unknowns we have in our lives these days. I can only imagine what our ancestors must have thought when they felt the ground shaking and splitting apart in places. Stars falling from the sky without knowing why. No wonder ancient cultures came up with mythological gods and creatures to explain what was happening in the world around them. Now, with a few words typed into a Google search or spoken to Siri or Alexa, we can find the answer to almost anything we want to know. It takes away some of the mystery of this world, but when it comes to earthquakes and satellite trains across the sky, I think I’m okay with that.
Prescott-area resident Kelly Paradis is a community liaison for Good Samaritan Home Health and Hospice and Prescott Evening Lions president. She loves listening to and writing stories about life.