That much is straightforward enough. What makes this row quietly odd is the way its heights behave: rather than graduating steadily from one end to the other, as many Irish stone rows do, the stones here dip towards the centre and then rise again, with the tallest stones anchoring the northeast end and the southwest end respectively. One stone, the third in the sequence, has given up standing entirely and now lies flat on the ground, measuring just under two metres in length.

Stone rows, which are among the more cryptic monuments of prehistoric Ireland, are relatively concentrated in the southwest of the country, with Cork and Kerry together accounting for a significant proportion of known examples. Their precise function remains unresolved; astronomical alignment, territorial marking, and funerary association have all been proposed at various points. The Beenalaght row runs on a northeast to southwest axis and extends 11.1 metres from end to end, with individual stones spaced between 0.7 and 1.8 metres apart. The northeast stone stands 2.9 metres high, as does its immediate neighbour to the southwest; from there the heights drop, only to climb again towards the far end. Seán Ó Nualláin, whose 1988 survey of Irish stone rows remains a foundational reference, recorded this site and a possible second row in the same townland, suggesting Beenalaght may have held more than one such monument.

The row sits on a spur of ground in what is described as flat pasture, a landscape setting that would have left the stones visible across a considerable distance when they were all upright. Whether the fallen third stone was toppled by human intervention, subsidence, or simple age is not recorded.