Identified from aerial photographs taken in April 1974, it measured roughly 180 metres east to west and 150 metres north to south, its outline once traced by a field boundary that has since been removed entirely, along with all the surrounding boundaries that once gave the landscape its older shape. A river runs north to south across its eastern sector, dividing a site that is now, at ground level, simply invisible.

What makes this particular patch of altered farmland quietly unsettling is the local association attached to it. Some in the area connect this enclosure with the burning of Bridget Cleary in 1895, one of the most disturbing and widely discussed events in late nineteenth-century Irish history. Bridget Cleary, a young woman from Clonmel, was killed by her husband and several relatives who became convinced she had been taken by the fairies and replaced with a changeling. The case drew enormous press attention across Ireland and Britain, exposing the persistence of folk belief and the fragility of the line between superstition and violence in rural communities. Fairy forts, the colloquial name for the kind of circular earthwork enclosures that pepper the Irish countryside, were understood as entrances to or dwelling places of the otherworld, and the geography of the Cleary case has long been intertwined with such places in local memory. Whether this particular enclosure has a direct documentary connection to that story or carries the association through oral tradition alone, the notes do not say.

The land to the west of the river has been divided into paddocks, and forestry has been planted to the west of the monument on the eastern side. There is nothing to see at ground level, which is itself a kind of fact worth sitting with: a place that survives only in aerial images and local memory, its physical form smoothed away by agricultural improvement, leaving behind little except the story.