There is no dramatic ruin here, no soaring arch or ivy-clad tower. What survives is a sod-covered stony rise roughly eleven metres east to west and thirteen metres north to south, its surface uneven with shallow hollows and humps. A heap of masonry rubble protrudes from the northwest corner, and set within the larger mound is a smaller, slightly raised rectangular feature, half a metre high and about nine metres by four and a half. Whether these humps represent the ghost of a nave, a chancel, a cloister wall, or something else entirely is genuinely uncertain; the relationship between these visible features and the original abbey cannot be determined from what remains above ground.

The site carries official recognition as a National Monument, and its slow disappearance is traceable through the Ordnance Survey record. The 1838 six-inch map marks it as a clearly defined rectangular area of roughly 25 metres east to west and 35 to 40 metres north to south. By the 1929 edition, the mapped area had contracted considerably, shown as a hachured oval of only around 16 metres by 14, suggesting that even within that century the surface evidence was shrinking. The mound today does not stand alone in the landscape. A relict field system is visible in the surrounding modern fields to the north, south, and southwest, and the abbey's own boundaries appear to merge with its sod-covered walls. About 150 metres to the north there is a church site, and roughly 250 metres in the same direction lies a rath, a type of enclosed circular earthwork that served as a farmstead or settlement in early medieval Ireland. This cluster of monument types close together is a reminder that the religious, the agricultural, and the domestic were rarely far apart in the medieval landscape of the west of Ireland.