The difficulty is that nobody can currently see it. No visible surface trace remains, and the site sits in rough grazing land with nothing to mark it out from the surrounding hillside. It is the kind of archaeological entry that raises as many questions as it answers, a recorded monument that has, for the moment at least, effectively vanished.

The story of how this stone came to be recorded at all is a small puzzle in cartographic history. A fallen standing stone in the adjoining field to the west, catalogued separately, appears on the Ordnance Survey second edition map with the label "Gallaun", the Irish word for a standing stone, typically a single upright prehistoric monolith of uncertain but considerable age. That same feature is absent from the first edition OS map, suggesting it was either noticed later or that its identification shifted between survey periods. The site under discussion here may itself represent a mislocation, with the stone's true position possibly corresponding to that fallen gallaun in the neighbouring field rather than the precise coordinates originally recorded. Whether the two entries describe aspects of the same stone, or whether one is simply the ghost of the other in the mapping record, remains unclear.