That ambiguity is precisely what makes this site worth a moment's thought. A feature recorded on the 1838 Ordnance Survey six-inch map, one of the first systematic large-scale surveys of Ireland, appears as two close-set parallel lines flanked by trees, curving gently in a shallow flattened arc running roughly west-northwest to east-northeast across roughly 100 metres of ground. By the time later map editions were drawn, it had vanished from the cartographic record entirely. Today, standing in that same field, there is nothing visible at ground level at all.

What the 1838 surveyors recorded has never been definitively explained. The feature could have been a field boundary, a laneway running between hedgerows or planted trees, or the northern arc of what was once a much larger enclosure, a term used loosely to describe anything from a prehistoric ringfort to a medieval cashel, which is itself a stone-walled enclosure of early Christian origin. The southern side of the arc is closed by a straight east-west field wall, and that wall does still exist. It is the one solid, touchable remnant of whatever arrangement of boundaries once existed here. The rest was either cleared during land improvement at some point after 1838, or was already fading when the surveyors came through and caught it just in time.