But the flat, rectangular face of this stone carries cup-and-ring markings, the prehistoric abstract art form in which a carved central hollow is encircled by one or more incised rings, that date back thousands of years and remain only partially explained by archaeologists. What makes this particular example quietly interesting is not just the carvings themselves but the way the stone has moved through time, accumulating a history almost as layered as its surface.

In 1877, a scholar named Graves recorded the boulder as a rounded, water-worn stone that had been built into a field fence near the site. By the time later researchers returned, the fence had been removed and the stone repositioned as part of a clearance cairn, the kind of mound farmers built when gathering loose rock from fields they wished to improve for pasture. Graves had noted two cup-and-ring motifs joined by a groove and flanked by four cupmarks, but a spall, a flake lost from the rock surface, has since taken that connecting detail with it. What remains is a large cup-and-ring motif spanning roughly 65 centimetres, and a smaller one to its north measuring around 19 by 16 centimetres. A further cupmark, apparently unrecorded before the most recent survey, sits 7 centimetres to the south of the main motif. The decorated face is now east-facing, though whether this orientation reflects any original intention or simply the practicalities of a farmer rearranging heavy stone is impossible to say.

The boulder sits at about 46 metres above sea level on a generally level valley floor, approximately 30 metres east of the Staigue river, with low hills rising to the west, north, and east. The motifs are described as weathered but traceable, meaning the carvings have not vanished so much as softened into the stone. Visiting in good low-angle light, early morning or late afternoon, is generally the best way to read cup-and-ring work, as raking light catches the shallow relief of the incised lines that flat midday sun tends to wash out entirely.