It is easy to miss, measuring only three metres north to south and rising to about half a metre at its highest point, and the perimeter stones are so deeply embedded in the bog vegetation that the structure reads less as a monument than as a subtle disturbance in the landscape. What gives it away is the shallow central depression, grass-grown where everything around it is heather, a hollow that suggests the stones were once arranged with some intention rather than simply dumped.

Cairns of this kind, loose accumulations of field-cleared or deliberately placed stone, appear across the Irish uplands and can be difficult to date or classify with confidence. Some are funerary, raised over burials in the Bronze Age or earlier; others are clearance cairns, the byproduct of making ground workable; others still may have served as waymarkers or boundary indicators. This particular example sits on the lower south-west-facing slope of the ridge, in rough upland bog, with an area of worked bog roughly sixty metres to the south. That detail is worth pausing on: evidence of bog-cutting nearby suggests this part of the mountain was not simply wilderness but a place people moved through and made use of, probably across a long span of time. A possible enclosure, a defined area bounded by some kind of bank or wall, lies just 1.8 metres to the north, which may or may not be related to the cairn itself.