It is not a dramatic monolith; at 1.3 metres tall and roughly 1.6 by 1.25 metres at its base, it is a solid, irregular block rather than a soaring pillar. What gives it a quiet interest is the practical evidence of its installation: packing stones, the small rocks wedged around the base to keep the upright stable, are still visible at ground level, a detail that makes the mechanics of its original erection unexpectedly legible.

The stone's long axis runs northeast to southwest, an alignment shared by many prehistoric standing stones across Ireland, though whether this reflects astronomical intent, territorial marking, or something else entirely is a question the archaeology has never fully resolved. What is clear is that this particular stone had, at some point, slipped from local memory or at least from official record. It does not appear on the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of either 1842 or 1904, meaning that for the better part of a century it sat in a tillage field, presumably known to those who farmed around it, but unrecorded by the surveyors who were otherwise methodically mapping the ancient monuments of Cork. Its omission from both surveys is a small puzzle in itself, given that the stone sits in a commanding position that would have been hard to overlook.