The hollow worn into the ground around its base tells you something about the quiet indignities of post-prehistoric survival. Yet for all its modest dimensions, roughly thirty centimetres wide and only twelve centimetres thick, the stone is carefully set, with packing stones still visible around its base, and orientated deliberately along a northeast-southwest axis, its top sloping upward from northeast to southwest.

The local landowner holds a tradition about it that pulls the stone into a more recent layer of history. It is said to have marked the line of a mass path, one of the informal routes used by Catholic communities during the Penal era and after to reach places of worship when access to formal church buildings was restricted or impossible. In this case the path reportedly led to a medieval church and graveyard, both of which survive in the area. Whether the stone was originally erected for that navigational purpose, or whether an older monument was simply pressed into service as a convenient waypoint along a well-worn route, is not recorded. Two other standing stones are visible from this spot, one roughly 388 metres to the northwest and another about 370 metres to the southwest, which suggests the three may once have formed part of a wider arrangement across this stretch of flat Tipperary farmland, though what that arrangement signified is long since lost.