To the editor:
Welcome to the bucolic, quiet North Fork. It is 7:30 on Sunday night, May 12, Mother’s Day. We have endured four hours of non-stop noise at our home in Cutchogue.
Of course there were a few helicopters early on, but this is over the top.
It started this afternoon, next door, with a commercial grade chipper accompanied by saws to cut up the trees downed by Sandy. These were accompanied by mega blowers to guide the debris into the maw of the gigantic chipper. We reluctantly closed our doors on the idyllic spring day, trying, in vain, to shut out the all-encompassing racket.
We thanked our lucky stars that we had not planned a family gathering this year. The noise continued unabated for two hours. The noise level diminished slightly, a welcome relief from the overwhelming roar of the chipper. Checking to see what was going on, we were stunned to see a large vacuum going back and forth across the neighbor’s yard as if it was a living room rug.
It was now 6:30 p.m. and we needed to eat our supper. Instead of a romantic dinner with music playing softly in the background to celebrate our 55 years of marriage and the very special children who make up our family, we were serenaded by more blowers as these tireless workers did the last cleanup of every tiny leaf.
Bob, finally, in exasperation, walked over to talk to the crew leader, who put him in touch with the boss, a local landscaper, who said the crew could work any hours they pleased. He was less than sympathetic.
Meanwhile, I had called Southold police and was told that the noise ordinance had not passed.
Finally, peace. The silence is deafening. It is now 8 p.m. We don’t realize how tense we have been until we are, suddenly, relaxed, together in the blessed quiet of our home.
Barbara and Bob Ringewald, Cutchogue