Its eastern face is now partially swallowed by an earthen field bank, the kind of gradual encroachment that happens when a prehistoric monument spends long enough beside a working farmyard. It is not dramatically isolated or set on a wild promontory; it simply stands there, going about the quiet business of having stood there for several thousand years.

The stone itself is broad and purposeful in its proportions, rising 1.8 metres in height with a rectangular base measuring 1.15 metres by 0.36 metres. It is oriented roughly east-north-east to west-south-west, and tapers with some regularity towards the top, suggesting it was shaped or at least carefully selected rather than planted at random. Standing stones of this kind are a recurring feature of the Irish prehistoric landscape, generally associated with the Bronze Age, though their exact functions remain a matter of debate; they have been linked to territorial markers, ritual sites, and astronomical alignments, often without any single explanation satisfying all cases. What can be said of this one is that its position was chosen with some care: it commands open views southward over Portmagee Channel, the narrow stretch of water that separates Valentia Island from the Iveragh Peninsula mainland and, beyond it, the approach to Skellig Michael.