It draws my eye. Even when the clouds hide it, I find my eyes fixed on that point in the whiteness until it’s unveiled again. I want to go closer. I don’t want to.
And all the time the clouds shift and part and re-form. The ground seems unsolid, the sky rarely glimpsed. But the rock is like an anchor. Even when it’s hidden, it’s there in my mind, a centrepoint to this unsolid place. And I can feel it drawing me in.