Probably one of the more commendable aspects of Wairarapa living is that people notice what's around them -- and will get involved if it's a matter of concern, even if it's not their business.
It's not something you see so profoundly in the city. Granted, when I lived in Wellington, neighbours looked out for each other, and agreed to keep an eye on your house while you were away on holiday. But that was about as far as it went. Here, in Wairarapa, people have a greater sense of the ebb and flow of nature, of community and commerce, and a greater appreciation that in a "village" society, what affects one person could have a ripple effect on you.
An excellent example is the series of phone calls of concern to Wee Red Barn, the fruit orchard in Opaki, because commuters to Masterton noticed that an entire section of strawberry plants were dead.
I've seen it and it does look dramatic. People wondered if there was a bug causing it, or some kind of spray. Many people in Wairarapa grow their own strawberries. But the truth is, as explained in our story today, that it's all part of sacrificing some plants to conserve water, a deliberate cycle which happens every year.
Nonetheless, as I said to Wee Red Barn co-owner Alan Bissett, it does at least show that people care.
A community is all the stronger when enough people have a sense of when things feel right or feel wrong. In the Wellington suburbs, a person could go months, or years, without wondering when a neighbouring suburb is going to get its park refurbished. But in Featherston, people are collectively waiting for the town square to start because they all sense the need to make that town a bit more complete. You can ask a small community to be patient, but never expect them to be indifferent when such an ugly gap is fundamentally a threat to the town's well-being.
That's why it's great working for a daily newspaper in this kind of community. Public concern occurs when something doesn't feel right. It's then up to the newspaper to seek answers.