That uncertainty is not a caveat or an admission of ignorance; it is, in a quiet way, the whole point. A stone measuring roughly 1.14 metres tall and oriented north to south was recorded in 1999, sitting in rough bogland on the hillside. By the time anyone went back to look for it properly, it had gone, or at least become unrecognisable, absorbed into one of the many mounds of cleared field stones and boulders that now lie scattered across the slope.

Standing stones, single upright slabs of rock set deliberately into the ground, date in Ireland most commonly to the Bronze Age, though their precise purposes remain debated. Some align with solar or lunar events; others appear to mark boundaries, routeways, or burial sites. This particular stone was recorded by M. Hodd in 1999 and noted as a possible standing stone, that cautious qualifier suggesting it may already have been ambiguous in character even before the landscape around it changed. What transformed the situation more decisively was land drainage. Much of the bogland in the area has since been drained and worked over, and the hillside now carries the ordinary, anonymous debris of agricultural improvement, mounds of displaced rock that could conceal almost anything, including a modest prehistoric upright that was never quite certain of its own identity to begin with.