At 1.2 metres tall and nearly two metres in length, it is subrectangular in plan with its long axis running north to south, the kind of proportions that can easily suggest human intention. The working conclusion, however, is that it is probably a natural feature, a lump of bedrock or glacial deposit that simply ended up upright and prominent on a hillside, accumulating the appearance of purpose without ever having been placed there by anyone.

What makes this ambiguity interesting is that the stone never appears on the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of 1842 or 1904. For a genuine standing stone, an upright megalith deliberately erected in prehistory, absence from those maps would be surprising; nineteenth-century surveyors were generally diligent about recording such features. That consistent omission across two separate surveys decades apart nudges the case further toward the natural explanation. Whether it was simply overlooked, or whether the surveyors saw it and recognised it as an unremarkable outcrop, is not recorded. The stone sits in pasture on its hilltop, doing what stones on hilltops have always done, which is to invite a question that cannot quite be settled.