It is not large, barely reaching a metre in height, and it does not dominate the landscape so much as quietly occupy it. What makes it worth pausing over is partly that quality of deliberate placement: not at the edge of a field, not against a boundary or a hedgerow, but at the centre, oriented along a NNE-SSW axis, as though positioned with some intention that has long since become illegible.

The stone is roughly rectangular in plan, measuring 0.8 metres by 0.5 metres at its base and rising to a height of 0.92 metres. It narrows slightly as it rises, a modest taper that is common among standing stones of prehistoric Ireland. These monuments, erected singly or in groups across the Irish landscape from the Neolithic through the Bronze Age, are among the most enduring and least understood features of early settlement. Their purposes remain a matter of debate, with theories ranging from territorial markers to astronomical alignments to memorials for the dead. The orientation of this particular stone, running roughly between north-northeast and south-southwest, may or may not be meaningful in that sense; the record does not say. It sits to the north of Drombrow Lake, in a valley that funnels the Mealagh River through a quiet corner of County Cork.