The stone that survives today is rectangular in plan, roughly 1.15 metres tall and just 35 centimetres wide, oriented on a north-south axis. It sits in tillage ground, which means it has endured centuries of agricultural activity around it, and possibly because of that activity, it now stands alone.

In 1916, a local observer named Condon documented not one stone but three at this location. Two of them shared the same north-south alignment and stood about five feet apart, their dimensions recorded in the careful imperial measurements of the time: one roughly 41 inches high and three feet by two feet at the base, the other slightly taller at 42 inches. A third stone, oriented east to west rather than north-south, stood approximately 72 feet to the east. That divergent alignment is worth noting. Standing stones, which are upright prehistoric monoliths whose exact purposes remain debated but likely encompassed ceremonial, territorial, or astronomical functions, are sometimes found in small groupings where differing orientations suggest deliberate arrangement rather than chance. Whether the two missing stones were removed for building material, buried by ploughing, or simply fell and were lost beneath the soil is not recorded. What is clear is that the single stone visible today represents only a fragment of whatever arrangement once occupied this hillside.