John Roughan: Let's all keep Sunday quiet

Consideration for neighbours is vital in suburbs where houses are close to each other. Photo / Herald on Sunday

Last time we had a long weekend this newspaper reported with astonishment that noisy home carpentry is not allowed on Sundays.

Evidently a man in Massey who was building himself a carport and a deck had been banging away with his hammer and running his power saws on the previous Sunday morning when an Auckland Council noise control officer arrived and told him to desist.

He was warned that he risked a $500 fine and confiscation of the offending tools.

"They told me I couldn't use a hammer or any power tools, including my nail gun, Skil saw or drop saw," he complained to the Herald.

The paper took up his case and went to the chairwoman of the Henderson-Massey local board, Vanessa Neeson. She seemed equally surprised by the Sunday rule and thought it "draconian".

The council's compliance manager, Carole Todd, explained that the Super City had inherited various rules from the previous cities. Several had prohibited noisy construction on Sundays but the racket had to be both "excessive" and "unreasonable".

The roar of a lawnmower, for example, was excessive but not unreasonable (on a Sunday?).

"It is an activity you would expect to occur at this time and location, so it is reasonable," she said.

Have I missed something? When did we surrender Sunday to motor-mowers? Is it just me or is it still a quiet day where you live too?

If we accept careless social commentary, Sunday is now just another day of the week. Shops are open, churches sparsely attended. People are said to be so busy that Sunday may be their only chance to mow the lawns, tune an engine or build a deck.

Yet they don't, on the whole. Sunday morning in my neighbourhood is still quiet enough that if somebody starts a mower it rents the air and destroys something precious.

It comes across the fence as an act of vandalism as thoughtless and boorish as any other. I imagine I can sense all the neighbours' disappointment and disgust. Or is it just mine?

There may still be time - just - to save the peace and quiet of Sunday morning. This is one of those qualities of life that can be lost only because nobody thinks about it and we too readily accept excuses made by the likes of Mrs Neeson.

"You try to be considerate of your neighbours, but often the way people work these days, the only day you've got is Sunday," she said.

Our parents' generation worked much harder around their houses than we do. Far more of them bought bungalows in new subdivisions. They had to break in their sections, clear rubble and rocks, lay lawns, put down concrete paths and driveways. As they got established they built decks and carports too.

They had more lawn to mow than most people today on shrinking sections.

Yet growing up amid all this raucous suburban activity I somehow came to expect Sundays to be quiet. Nobody, as I recall, said they had to be. It was just the way it was - and is. There is no reason it has to change.

The only thing that has changed is our mute acceptance of inconsiderate behaviour. Back then, anyone starting a motor-mower on Sunday would be the subject of muttered disapproval among the neighbours. It might not have immediately stopped the offender but the conversation would have reinforced the prevailing value.

Neighbourly conversation is something else we supposedly haven't much time for today. That is why we need noise control officers among other things.

It is also why some of Auckland's previous councils had rules restricting the right of property owners to cut down big trees.

If neighbours knew each other as they used to, there might be no need for council consent. A tree-owner would be aware surrounding residents valued the sight of it and its contribution to the leafy character of their neighbourhood.

Maybe Nelson, where Environment Minister Nick Smith lives, is still an intimate, neighbourly place but Auckland is not. Legislation he put through Parliament two years ago was not this Government's finest hour.

Good news, though: last week the legislation was emasculated by the Environment Court.

The Auckland Council asked the court to clarify a key phrase in the legislation that said councils could protect only specified individual trees or groups of trees.

The court decided a "group" did not have to be standing together - it could be all trees of a named species or defined character. The Government might not let the ruling rest but for the moment I'm celebrating.

Law is not the best way to enforce social values but it is better than Sunday noise and barren suburbs.

Nobody should need to be told to give the neighbours a break.