Sometimes I reserve certain thoughts for a particular time during the day. In this case, though, I realize that my evening walk, the route, the night sky, the lights around me, all induce certain thoughts and memories that it slowly becomes a ritual of some kind. At the very least it becomes a place, a mood if you will, to revisit again and again.
I won't go as far as saying words came back to me, but I walked on and at every familiar point conceptions of stories and diary entries started coming back to me. I took a walk and picked remnants of past ideas off the side of the road like long lost treasures, and slowly I felt the return of something, as if my muse's shadow hovered behind me, slipping through lyrics and music into my ear undetected. Halfway through, I put an old playlist on. Older songs packed with vivid imaginings streamed on that my lips naturally started mouthing along the words. Maybe certain eyes followed but the bounce in my feet far outran my own self-consciousness and there was freedom, finally.
"Someday you will find me caught beneath the landslide, with a champagne supernova in the sky."