I heard this idea from a friend of mine, of whom specifically I forget. It was the recount of an ancient writer acting under the superstition of the times. In the field, the philosopher would be working when he would suddenly get struck with an idea – a blessing from the Muse. In his mind, inspiration acted like the wind, blowing into him and eventually past him. The man would then ‘chase the wind of his idea’, back to his home and write it down before it would blow past and inspire another.
I had a similar thing happen to me while listening to an audiolog a friend of mine had sent me for my birthday. I was walking through a forest, and only half done the log when I was struck with a sudden urge to sit down and record a response. The result was something unique, unrepeatable. Something about the environment, and everything I had thought and felt up till then that day seemed to coalesce into a fully-formed project in my mind.