It is not a gravestone, not a boundary marker, and not quite like the ornate holy water stoups found in church porches. It is a font, modest in every dimension, placed on a modern plinth as though someone felt it deserved at least that much ceremony.

The block itself is roughly rectangular, cut from granite, and measures just 42 centimetres long, 32 centimetres wide, and 15 centimetres high. Carved into its upper face is a basin, subrectangular in shape with almost vertical sides and a flat base, large enough to hold water but with no drain-hole to release it. That absence is worth pausing on. A font without a drain relies entirely on evaporation or manual emptying, which suggests either a very deliberate design or considerable age, from a period before such practical refinements were considered necessary. Fonts of this kind are sometimes associated with early ecclesiastical sites, where a shallow stone basin near a burial ground would have served for ritual blessing or purification, though the precise origin and date of this particular example are not recorded.