Its diameter is just two and a half metres, barely large enough for a person to lie down in, yet the care taken in its construction is still legible in the landscape. The lower courses of its drystone wall, built without mortar in the traditional manner, break the surface of the surrounding boggy pasture, and the interior floor was deliberately levelled by cutting into the uphill slope to the north and building up an earthen platform to the south, a practical solution to building on a gradient that is quietly ingenious in its simplicity.

The hut sits within a network of relict field boundaries, the ghostly outlines of an agricultural system that has long since ceased to function. Together, these features suggest a worked and organised landscape, one where people pastured animals, marked out territory, and sheltered on these hills at some point in the past, though the precise period remains unspecified. A possible entrance, around seventy centimetres wide, faces east, a common orientation in vernacular and prehistoric structures across Ireland, possibly for shelter from prevailing westerly winds, possibly for other reasons that are now difficult to recover. What remains is small, eroded, and easy to overlook, but the combination of levelled interior, coursed drystone walling, and associated field systems gives the site a coherence that makes it more than a random scatter of stones.