It is easy to overlook: the wall has long since collapsed, and much of its base is swallowed by bog, with the basal stones only just breaking the surface. Fallen material spills down the southern, downslope side. Two small rivers, roughly 80 metres apart, cross the wall at around 100 metres and 180 metres from its eastern end, cutting through it as though it were simply another feature of the landscape rather than something deliberately made.

What makes this boundary more than a tumbled line of stone is the cluster of activity it belongs to. The wall connects to the straight north-eastern side of a hut site, and forms the northern boundary of a small enclosure. Two further hut sites sit close by. Taken together, these features suggest a small settled community that once organised this hillside with some care, dividing ground, building shelters, and marking out enclosures. Drystone construction, which uses no mortar and relies entirely on the careful fitting of stones, was the standard method for field boundaries and dwellings across much of early rural Ireland, and the bog that now partially buries this wall has, in its way, preserved it. The rough pasture that covers the slope today gives little outward sign of that earlier, more intensive occupation.