It is a cairn, a term that describes a deliberate heap or pile of stones raised by human hands, and this one is notably modest in scale: roughly five metres across east to west, just over four metres north to south, and no more than half a metre at its highest point. The stones themselves are medium to large in size, each around a quarter of a metre across, and together they form a shape that is subcircular and flat-topped, suggesting something intentional rather than accidental.

What makes its situation particularly interesting is the layered context surrounding it. The cairn sits within what is recorded as a multiperiod field system, meaning the landscape around it preserves traces of agricultural organisation from more than one distinct historical period, boundaries and divisions that accumulated over centuries rather than being laid out all at once. A field wall runs immediately to the west of the cairn, hemming it into a corner of that longer story. And roughly thirty-two metres to the north-north-west, a second cairn stands in the same general area, the two structures close enough to suggest some relationship, whether contemporaneous or coincidental. Without excavation, the precise age or purpose of either cairn remains uncertain, but their presence together within an ancient field system points to a landscape that has been shaped, marked, and reshaped by people across a very long span of time.