What makes it worth a second glance is the care embedded in its construction: the wall, roughly a metre thick, was built with an inner and outer row of upright slabs set side by side, with smaller stones packed between them. It is a technique that speaks to someone who knew exactly what they were doing, even if we no longer know exactly when, or why.

The enclosure measures just under fifteen metres north to south and fourteen metres east to west, making it a modest but well-defined space. A single entrance, about one and a half metres wide, opens to the east and is marked by a standing stone nearly a metre tall. The builders also negotiated the slope with some ingenuity: the northern portion of the interior was cut down into the hillside by about half a metre, while the southern portion sits raised, the combined effect being an interior that slopes gently southward rather than pitching awkwardly with the hill. The wall survives best along its north-north-west to north-north-east arc; elsewhere it has collapsed to a low rubble, in places only thirty centimetres high internally. Old field boundaries radiate outward from the enclosure wall to the south, north, and just south-east of the entrance, suggesting that whatever activity took place here was part of a broader, organised landscape that has since been largely swallowed by bog and rough grazing.