Wanderlust is after something in her house. She writes,
So I dusted, scrubbed, mopped, and polished every square inch to fall on my “Ah-hah!” moment, and I finally did find it. A little piece of rock, hiding shyly behind my closet door, just waiting to be put on a pedestal. This tiny, but beautiful pink rock, streaked with shades of grey, speckled with even tinier pores that the wind and the rain left behind, and all the other bits and pieces that it took under its wing.
Here the author gives the rock character. It hides “shyly,” “waiting to be put.”
The author is “experiencing” the rock. She’s also investing in it. That rock could tip the scales of things. Only problem: the word “beautiful.”