Grahame Sydney warns changes are undermining the authenticity of the district's brand, ''A World of Difference''.
His comments, however, ring with the ominous clang of warning bells for those of us who watch the rapid disappearance of those very qualities which made Central Otago so beloved by so many not so long ago.
Insisting that ''nothing has changed'' is tantamount to an admission of wilful blindness. Worse, it suggests the mayor is either unconcerned at the degradation of the values which separate Central Otago from other regions, or unaware of them.
Mr Lepper conveniently fails to list the characteristics which gave rise to the council's ''World of Difference'' brand.
What are those characteristics ? Ask any New Zealander what ''Central Otago'' means to them, and the answers would, I suggest, fall into categories covering the dry, golden landscapes; the wide, expansive, silent valleys and their bordering barren, jagged and schisty ranges; the climatic extremes from shimmering, dusty summers to the frigid, fragile ice and snows of crisp winters; the clarity and perpetual freshness of the rivers; and the many reminders of the dramatic, extraordinary history of the region - its rapid and turbulent transformation from silent, desolate ''wasteland'' interior to frantic gold rush destination, home to untold thousands almost overnight.
Of course, the introduction of human activity has radically altered that original treeless and empty landscape. What is at issue is the extent to which the change now being witnessed - particularly associated with intensification of farming - is being managed, or should be managed.
I am old enough to remember the Central Otago of my teenaged years, my 20s and 30s even - before the Ministry of Works arrived in force - was reliably honey-coloured and brittle in summer. We fished and swam in rivers and streams with never a thought of danger to health, we tramped hills of ochre tussocks, thyme, spaniards and matagouri. We rejoiced in the extraordinary difference between the hills and paddocks of coastal Dunedin and those around Alexandra and Ranfurly. It was those many differences which made us want to be in Central, and greatly enhanced our love of it.
It was those differences, I venture, to which the council in its ''World of Difference'' brand exercise was referring.
What of them now? The landscape - what we love most about being here, or used to love, and what most visitors I believe come to Central to enjoy - is almost unrecognisable today. Golden Central Otago is just a beautiful memory treasured by those of us old enough to have indelible and treasured recollections of what used to be. Far from ''Nothing has changed, Brian'', so much has changed.
The dry landscape and yellow grasses are now being artificially watered into a fertilised, toxic, and profoundly unnatural verdant greenery with no concession to the seasons; the rivers are thickening with chemical and animal waste and other waterways are being actively targeted for still more destructive dams so, in arrogant defiance of nature's conditions, the soils can be enticed to produce more and more short-term wealth for a few landowners.
Not a ''World of Difference'' at all, but a world which looks depressingly like every other world.
The mayor believes ''nothing has changed''. I, and many others, believe differently. We don't want or ask to return to what used to be - that is impossible and foolish.
What we ask of our community leaders is to think hard about what is happening and what permissions granted today will mean in 50 or 100 years' time. Are the regulations effective in preserving what is best and unique about our region, what people most love about it? Is there any vision for that future and how to get there? Do we know what we most want to preserve, to defend, to be proud of?
We are looking to council to provide a vision for this region which preserves what remains of its points of real difference, and to have the courage to take the necessary steps to achieve that vision. The alternative is that Central Otago loses all traces of distinction, save the seasons, that it becomes just like everywhere else, and that New Zealand loses what was once one of its most precious and unique landscapes. Much of it is already gone, there being no control or regulation available to restrain it.
That is what Brian Turner was asking, and hoping the council, through its leader, might answer. No such luck, Brian. But it's OK, mate: look around. Nothing has changed. Remember?
- Painter and photographer Grahame Sydney lives in the Cambrian Valley, near St Bathans.
