Love is a fairly amazing thing, but I suppose we all know that by now; it’s most unlikely that so much of our poetry, cinema and popular music would be devoted to the subject if it were something mundane. Among all of the myriad characteristics of this concept we call love, the most remarkable is its ability to grow anew in fields thought long ago to be sewn with salt. Indeed, the deepest, truest, most intense love affair of my life—which had, I thought, long ago been rendered nothing more than a pile of spent ashes—now blazes again with the intensity of the desert sun. And it all started up again because of a trip to the grocery store in 2005.

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