Levelled at some point in the twentieth century by farming activity, it survives now only as a faint shadow on satellite imagery, a ghostly outline that the naked eye standing in the field cannot detect at all.

What makes the site particularly curious is the disagreement between two historical maps about what it actually was. The first edition Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1839 recorded it as a quadrilateral enclosure, suggesting a roughly rectangular or square earthwork, the kind of form sometimes associated with early medieval farmsteads or ecclesiastical enclosures. By the time the revised edition was produced in 1899, surveyors were instead depicting a circular platform roughly forty metres in diameter. Whether the monument genuinely changed shape in the intervening decades, or whether the two sets of surveyors simply interpreted the same degraded earthwork differently, is now impossible to say with certainty. The site sits just above the flood plain at the foot of the southern and eastern valley sides of the Dinin, with the land rising steeply to the south and open views across the river valley to the north. Field boundaries came to enclose it tightly on all sides except the south-west, which may itself have contributed to its gradual erasure as agricultural pressure built around it.

For anyone with an interest in how landscapes hold, and then lose, their archaeological memory, the Damerstown enclosure is a useful case. The monument is not visible on the ground, but the broader valley setting remains legible, and the Dinin river corridor itself is quiet and relatively undisturbed country.