Three cashels, which are dry-stone walled enclosures of early medieval origin typically used as farmsteads or defended settlements, lie fairly close together at An Coimín. Within one of them, a mound of stones roughly 3.1 metres in external diameter occupies the interior. It could be the remains of a hut site, or it could simply be a sheep-shelter. The difference matters archaeologically, but the stones themselves are not saying.

The ambiguity does not end there. Directly to the east of the cashel, the ruined foundations of a large rectangular structure survive, measuring 13 metres north to south and 5 metres east to west, divided internally by cross-walls into three sections. Between its southern end and the cashel wall sits a circular foundation about 2 metres in diameter, its wall now reduced to a single course of small stones. A shapeless heap of stones lies just to the east of the rectangular structure's southern end. Archaeologist J. Cuppage, who recorded the site for the Dingle Peninsula Archaeological Survey published in 1986, was candid about the limits of interpretation: it is not clear what these structures represent, nor whether they are contemporary with the cashels at all. They could belong to the same period of activity, or they could reflect centuries of separate, overlapping use of the same hillside.

What makes this corner of An Coimín quietly compelling is precisely that accumulation of unanswered questions. The moorland setting, the grouping of three cashels within sight of one another, and the unexplained rectangular building with its subdivided interior and attendant circle of stones suggest a place that was used, modified, and perhaps repurposed across a long stretch of time, without leaving enough behind to tell a tidy story.