It measures 2.72 metres in length and up to 1.76 metres across, which suggests it was once a substantial presence on the landscape, the kind of prehistoric marker that would have been visible from some distance on the surrounding slopes. Now it is embedded in a field boundary on a north-east-facing slope used for tillage, absorbed into the working fabric of the land rather than rising above it.

What makes its situation quietly curious is the absence of any record of it on the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of either 1842 or 1904. Standing stones, even fallen ones, tend to attract annotation; they are the sort of feature that surveyors noted, named, and occasionally mythologised. This one escaped that attention entirely during both major mapping surveys of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, which raises the possibility that it had already fallen and been incorporated into the fence line long before either survey was carried out, making it effectively invisible as an archaeological feature to anyone working from the maps alone. Its rediscovery and classification came later, through fieldwork rather than cartographic tradition.