A ring barrow, one of the simpler prehistoric funerary forms, consists of a low central mound enclosed by a circular ditch and an outer bank. Here, the ditch, or fosse, measures three metres wide and only fifteen centimetres deep, and the surrounding bank rises a mere five centimetres above the exterior ground surface. These are not dramatic earthworks. They are the kind of features that a grazing animal would step over without noticing, and that a person might walk across without realising they had crossed something at all.

What makes this particular example quietly arresting is its context. The ring barrow sits within the north-eastern portion of a deserted settlement, a community that once occupied this ground and whose own boundaries, marked by field banks, still run close by: one approximately nine metres to the east, another roughly twenty-six metres to the north. The relationship between a prehistoric burial monument and a later, medieval or post-medieval settlement built up around it raises questions that the surviving earthworks alone cannot answer. Did the people of the settlement know they were living alongside an ancient grave? Almost certainly they would have recognised it as something older. A second ring barrow of similar type lies approximately one hundred and fifty metres to the west-northwest, suggesting that this part of Kilfeakle Churchquarter held some significance in the landscape long before any of the later settlement banks were raised.