The loss is significant, and so is what it obscures: this was no isolated monument but an alignment set directly beside a boulder-burial, a prehistoric funerary form in which a large capstone rests on smaller supporting stones, and the pairing of the two suggests a complex of related ritual activity rather than a chance scatter.

When P.J. Lynch recorded the site in 1902, he noted an alignment of stones adjacent to the boulder-burial, with three of them still protruding roughly a foot above the ground. Notably, the central stone among them was a boulder of white quartz, a material that appears repeatedly at prehistoric sacred and funerary sites across Ireland and western Britain, apparently chosen for its luminous, distinctive quality rather than any purely practical reason. The alignment as Lynch described it has since been destroyed by ploughing, and only one stone now survives, lying prostrate and measuring 1.35 metres in length, positioned about a metre to the north-west of the boulder-burial. Local knowledge holds that this stone formerly stood upright, which places it firmly within the category of deliberate erection rather than natural deposition.

The site is a quiet lesson in how much can disappear from a landscape within a few generations of farming. The quartz centrepiece is gone entirely. The alignment it anchored is gone. What remains is one fallen stone and the boulder-burial it once accompanied, enough to suggest the original intention but not enough to reconstruct it.