Sitting at roughly 80 metres above sea level on the north-east edge of a modern field clearance cairn, the stone is pinkish where it remains undisturbed, greying and white-edged where weathering has taken hold, and scored in places by digger tracks that run east to west. Beneath those modern wounds, on the flatter mid-to-western part of the upper surface, someone at some unknown point in prehistory left four cupmarks and a forking groove. Cupmarks are exactly what they sound like: shallow, bowl-shaped depressions pecked or ground into rock, among the oldest and most widespread forms of human mark-making in the Atlantic world. Here they are modest in size, between 4 and 6 centimetres across and rarely deeper than a centimetre, but the layout has a deliberate quality: a groove just 3 centimetres wide runs southward before splitting into two branches, each terminating in one of the cupmarks. Additional pitting, scattered incisions, and around ten pick-like marks on the western face of the boulder suggest the surface was worked at more than one moment, or in more than one way.

The boulder is oriented with its long axis running roughly north-north-east to south-south-west, sloping upward to the south-south-west, and measuring 3.6 metres along that axis. It was identified as rock art by Aoibheann Lambe in 2018, which is a reminder of how recently some prehistoric sites are formally recognised, even in a county as extensively surveyed as Kerry. From where it sits, the ground falls away to the east, and from that higher vantage two ringforts are visible in the landscape below. To the south-south-west, the view carries past Lamb's Head and out toward the Beara Peninsula. Whether that sightline mattered to the people who made the marks is unknowable, but the positioning is consistent with a pattern seen at other Irish rock art sites, where decorated stones occupy elevated ground with wide outward views.