What remains, if anything can be said to remain, is a shallow depression and a faint scattering of grass-covered stone, the kind of trace that reads more as a rumour of architecture than architecture itself. What makes the site quietly arresting is not what survives but what does not, and the way that absence has been carefully documented across nearly two centuries of mapping and fieldwork.

The Ordnance Survey's six-inch map of 1837 marks the spot with a small square, roughly eight metres across, annotated simply as 'Site of Church', suggesting the structure was already gone by the time the surveyors passed through. By the revised twenty-five-inch edition of 1913, it was noted again, the cartographers apparently reluctant to let the memory drop entirely. When investigators visited in 1971, they found a shallow semi-circular depression of around eighteen metres, defined by an earthen and stone bank reduced in places to a scarp. A return visit in 1978 found low, defaced banks and grass-covered stone foundations with no clear pattern. Aerial photography has since revealed a possible rectangular earthwork enclosing the church site, roughly 44 metres north to south and 30 metres east to west, which may correspond to the small enclosure shown on the 1837 map. A post-1700 garden wall follows its eastern edge, and the corner of an orchard wall, also visible on the 1837 survey, encroaches on the western side of the site. Old cultivation ridges run north-north-east to south-south-west across the surrounding field, stopping neatly at the monument's boundary without crossing it, as though the farmers who worked this land understood, or at least respected, where the church ground ended. The site lies close to the demesne of Oldtown House, and an abbey site sits roughly 86 metres to the east-south-east, hinting at a concentration of early ecclesiastical activity in this corner of Westmeath that the landscape has largely swallowed.