ROSEMARY ABBOTT | Culture
NOISE POLLUTION
Dave Wilkes, 32, a public servant working for the Department of Conservation in Wellington, had high hopes for a productive day working from home.
Nestled in his cozy Lower Hutt home, he had planned to tackle his to-do list of email correspondence, report writing, and possibly even finishing that long-overdue strategic review on native plant conservation. But little did he know that his tranquil office space was about to be ripped apart by the sounds of a very different kind of “nature” outside his window.
“Honestly, I just don’t understand the need,” Wilkes muttered, eyeing his laptop screen, which was now filled with a mix of half-composed emails.
“I’m in a department that’s all about conservation—preserving nature, fostering quiet environments. And yet, here I am, trying to write a report about native ecosystems, and this guy’s out there making sure that not a single leaf remains in the vicinity of his front yard. For two hours!”
According to Wilkes, his neighbour Bob had already completed a significant section of his yard, but evidently, that wasn’t enough.
“Hasn’t he finished? How long does it take? Doesn’t he know I’m over here trying to deliver value to the people of Aotearoa?”
More to come.
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