The countryside is flat and as far as you look in any direction there is little to see except the occasional stand of scrubby trees dotted between the saltbush and spinifex. The power lines run alongside the road, two strands of wire stretched between ancient wooden posts reaching off into the distance where eventually they meet the road at a point somewhere on the far distant horizon. There is something monotonous about the posts perfectly placed at regular intervals kilometre after kilometre. The only change in the scenery is the occasional eagle's nest balanced precariously at the top of a pole, and the odd pole showing the effects of age or termite attack.

As I drive along the road adjacent to the power lines, I reflect on the fact that relationships often seem to reach a point where one or both of the partners begin to count the poles and despair at their monotony. The occasional eagle's nest no longer carries the interest that it did at first and the growing rate of divorce is testimony to the fact that all too often the security of the relationship is abandoned in search of something more exciting.

Yet as I look al the power poles I realise that it is in their regularity and stability that a powerful source of energy is able to surge through hundreds of kilometres of' power lines, bringing life, light and communication to people in isolated towns and communities along the way. By removing some of the poles in the interest of change and variety would seriously endanger the stability of the power lines and would eventually weaken the link between these communities.

It seems that when we take the emphasis off the wires and the electricity passing through them and concentrate on the poles, things go wrong. The electricity of a relationship must be nurtured faithfully by the ordinary things of life, the regular, stable and, dare I say it, the monotonous activities that make for a stable relationship.