That much is certain. Whether it was ever placed there by human hands is considerably less so. The structure, if it is one, sits below the level of the surrounding ground and is not visible without searching for it, which lends the whole thing an appropriately ambiguous quality.

When Ruairí de Valera and Seán Ó Nualláin documented megalithic monuments across Ireland in 1961, they noted the stone here with some caution, describing it as a slab of up to two metres in its maximum dimension, resting on smaller slabs, and adding the qualifier "perhaps natural." A cromlech, the older term used on the 1921 Ordnance Survey six-inch map that named this spot, generally refers to a dolmen-type structure, a large capstone supported by uprights, sometimes understood as the exposed skeletal remains of a prehistoric burial after its earthen mound has eroded away. Whether the stone at Caherloghan ever functioned in that way, or whether it simply settled into its current arrangement without any human assistance, remains an open question. What gives the site its peculiar interest is precisely this unresolved status, caught somewhere between monument and geology, labelled on a map, debated in a survey, and still unresolved more than sixty years later. The surrounding area adds some weight to the idea that something deliberate was happening here at some point: three other megalithic structures lie close to the west, west-south-west, and south-west, and a cairn, a stone-built mound typically associated with prehistoric burial, sits to the south-west as well, suggesting this slope was, at minimum, a place people returned to over time.