Today, during a walk at Meiji Jingu, I felt oddly dizzy for a second, as if I might faint.  It passed.  I wondered briefly if it was a minor earthquake—when one is outside, it is hard to tell these things.

Later, sitting at home at the table, I had just opened a book and was munching on some popcorn.  The cat was trying to nab a piece, when he suddenly jumped down from the table and slunk away upstairs.  About ten seconds later, the entire house started shaking and swaying.  All the ornaments on the Christmas tree clanked.  There was the funny groan of shutters and pillars and objects all in motion although nothing fell off the shelves.  The shaking went on almost as long as the the 11 March earthquake but was far less violent.  I felt oddly fragile, hand poised over the book, waiting to see if I should get up and seek a doorway or stand by the ugly fattish support pillar in the living room…not again, I worried, thinking if the shaking was this strong in Tokyo, it was surely worse elsewhere.  Despite all the gloomy pontifications about the end of the world, Japan simply gets a lot of earthquakes and always has…but it doesn’t feel like an auspicious way to begin the new year.