Singing for supper, or breakfast, as the case might be
As the days grow longer and dawn reverts to its earlier, pre-daylightsaving hour, the birds have started tweeting ahead of the alarm clock.
Many mornings I have been woken well before having enjoyed my scheduled amount of sleep.
There is a blackbird, in particular, a semi-domesticated songster that revels in the cat’s increasing decrepitude and inability to travel very far, very fast.
He sits on the fence close to the bedroom window and sings his heart out.
In the distance, there is a backing chorus of sparrows and other feathered creatures, punctuated by the distinctive note of some tui clearing their throats.
Being woken up is annoying, even if the sound is rather charming and an indication that our native birdlife is thriving,
even in the city.
And there is always the possibility of returning to sleep as the overture fades.
Then one morning, I realised I had slept right through until the phone alarm went off.
Did I wonder whether the city council had imposed and enforced a bylaw to silence the birds, because they were causing a nuisance?
Not at all.
I assumed I had become used to it. But I have not recently had to test my tolerance for roosters crowing.
It appears that many people who have to endure living close to them lose patience very quickly.
Reports that the Palmerston North City Council is considering a ban on keeping them in residential areas has evoked some intemperate responses.
People have commented that an axe and a chopping block is the obvious solution, or a pot roast.
And it’s not just a Palmerston North issue.
There was a story from Nelson quoting a countryside dweller, who claimed the roosters making his life a misery were noisier than his tractor.
A New Plymouth resident once called in the council’s enforcement manager to complain about a rooster waking her at 5am. The manager’s name was Lloyd Crow. Seriously.
Interestingly, it is a commonly believed urban myth that roosters are already banned in towns and cities, including Palmerston North.
And it is true that most cities and districts at least have controls in place.
In Wellington, roosters are not allowed to be kept in urban areas, but you can apply for permission to break the rule.
In Auckland, they are not allowed unless you can get a licence.
In South Waikato, no person is allowed to keep any rooster in an urban area where, in the opinion of an authorised officer, a nuisance is being, or is likely to be, created by its noise.
In Hamilton, you have to apply for a permit.
The Dunedin City Council policy is that they are not suitable for keeping in residential areas.
In Invercargill, the director of environmental and planning services may order the removal of a rooster if someone complains, and the council is satisfied that the rooster has caused a nuisance to the neighbour.
But Palmerston North residents are not convinced, thus far, that a ban is the way to go.
Unsympathetic views have been expressed that people who didn’t want to get up and start work when the cock crowed were not just intolerant, but also lazy.
An unscientific poll on Neighbourly returned results just over 40 per cent in favour of a ban, with almost 60 per cent opting for ‘‘let them be’’.
It is now possible to identify the location of the voters, and whether any of the tolerant ones actually lived within earshot of a rooster.
But it’s a fair guess that the answer would be, probably not.
End note:
We have been paying a lot of attention lately to councillors’ records for attending meetings.
In Palmerston North, there’s a 25-year history of the roll call being routinely collated and made available to the public.
Other councils have been less diligent, but have extracted the information when requested.
Some of the results are moderately entertaining, while others can be just sad and intrusive.
From time to time councillors have been quite devastated by the implied criticism when they have put family crises or commitments ahead of meeting attendance, or after having been sick on a day when four black marks for missing meetings could be clocked up against them.
And to a large extent, attendance records are not very useful. They do not capture whether councillors came to meetings well prepared, and whether they participated.
In Palmerston North’s case, it becomes even more bizarre as councillors can be marked present if they are absent, on council business.
City councillors have recently introduced another measure, about how many ‘‘Let’s Talk’’ sessions they arrange and attend, putting the focus on the possibly more relevant function of being available and talking to ratepayers.
If anyone can come up with an even better way of judging whether our councillors are measuring up, apart from the brutal three-yearly test of popularity, that would be doing democracy a service.