Once a standing stone, it has long since fallen and now rests on the ground, measuring just under two metres in length and relatively slender in cross-section, at roughly twenty centimetres by seventy. Standing stones of this kind are among the most enigmatic survivals of prehistoric Ireland, erected across the landscape during the Bronze Age or earlier for purposes that remain genuinely unclear, whether as boundary markers, ritual monuments, or indicators of burial sites beneath. This one, unremarkable in scale by the standards of the grander examples elsewhere in Cork, is quietly typical of the many dozens that dot the county's fields and hillsides, known mainly to those who stumble across them.

The stone appears in Pádraig Walsh's 1985 survey work, catalogued as no. 89 among the prehistoric monuments of the region, and was later included in the published archaeological inventory for east and south Cork. Beyond those bare measurements and its current fallen condition, the record does not say when it fell, whether it was toppled deliberately or simply succumbed to the slow pressure of time and ground movement. In a working pasture, stones like this can shift over generations without anyone noting the moment of their collapse.