What makes it quietly odd is the paper trail: a monument described, named, mapped, demoted to a "site of", and finally confirmed as gone, leaving behind only the words of surveyors who caught it at different stages of its disappearance.

The Ordnance Survey's six-inch map of 1842 marks the spot plainly as "Cromlech", which was a term used in the nineteenth century for a megalithic tomb of the kind we might now call a portal tomb or wedge tomb, structures built from large upright stones supporting a heavy capstone. The OS Memoranda of 1840 recorded it as being "composed of large flags placed on four pedestals resembling a table of stone," with the top standing about three feet above the ground. That description is vivid enough to picture, even if it does not allow scholars to say with certainty whether this was a portal tomb, where two tall entrance stones frame a doorway, or a wedge tomb, a lower, elongated form more common in the west of Ireland. By the time the antiquarian Thomas Johnson Westropp was working in the region around 1901, the structure had already been destroyed. The 1916 edition of the OS map reflects this, quietly adjusting the label to "Cromlech (site of)". A field inspection carried out in 1998 found no surface trace whatsoever. Roughly ten metres to the south-west, the outline of an enclosure has been identified, suggesting this slope once held more than a single monument.

There is nothing to see here now, which is, in its own way, the point. The scrub on that valley slope covers a blank where something prehistoric once stood, described once by a passing surveyor, named on a map, and then gradually edited out of the landscape.