There was a boy in search of truth. He followed a trail up pebbles up a well worn trail. Each pebble contained a tiny portion of truth. Previous travelers had polished them and laid them out along the way.

The trail was long, and as he traveled the boy grew into a man. He continued following the trail of stones in the hope that he would finally reach the source.

One day when he was resting he looked to the side and saw a great boulder on a hillside. It was rough, not polished or handled by anyone, and placed without any clear intention. Yet it filled him with strange wonder, like something from a dream, and attracted him like nothing he had encountered before.

To reach that place, he had to leave the trail, descend, and traverse. He could surely get there, he considered, but there was no telling what he would see from that vantage.

He looked for a long time, then he returned to the trail of pebbles that he knew so well. He had climbed a long way up the trail already, and the great rock was perched on a slippery slope after all.