What makes it quietly curious is a question that archaeologists have not fully resolved: whether the mound was ever entirely man-made, or whether a pre-existing glacial hillock, left behind by the last ice age, was simply shaped and modified by human hands into something that resembled a burial monument. The distinction matters, because it places the site somewhere between geology and intention, between landscape and memorial.

The mound is roughly oval in plan, about 20 metres in diameter, composed of earth and stones, and sits midway along a ridge running north-north-east to south-south-west. A barrow of this type is a funerary mound, typically raised over a burial, though no excavation appears to have been carried out here to confirm what, if anything, lies beneath. There is no visible fosse, the encircling ditch that often accompanies such monuments. On its eastern side, the mound has been partially cut away, leaving a steep north-south scarp where large flat stones are exposed; this damage is thought to be the result of quarrying, recorded in site files from visits in October 1972 and August 1973. Adding further interest to the immediate setting is a ringfort, a circular enclosure of the early medieval period, located just 30 metres to the west. The two monuments, separated by centuries in their likely origins, share the same modest ridge above the surrounding wetland.