Sometime around 1964, a stone that had risen roughly eight feet from a south-west-facing slope in open pasture was removed and buried in the very ground where it had stood. The result is a monument that is simultaneously present and absent, occupying the same coordinates it always did while remaining entirely invisible.

Standing stones are among the most common prehistoric monuments in the Irish landscape, raised for purposes that remain genuinely unclear, whether to mark territory, commemorate the dead, or serve as waypoints across open country. This particular stone has an additional layer of obscurity: it does not appear on the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of either 1842 or 1904, which means it was either overlooked by surveyors on two separate occasions or had already been displaced or obscured by then. That absence from the cartographic record makes its history harder to trace, and the account of its burial rests on local information rather than any documented record. Someone, at some point in the early 1960s, decided the stone was inconvenient enough to remove, yet not so disposable that it needed to go far. Burying a stone on the spot it occupied is a curious compromise, neither preservation nor destruction.