An arc of hachures, those fine hatched lines cartographers once used to indicate earthen banks or enclosures, appears on the 1925 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map, tracing a curve roughly seventy metres across from northwest to northeast. On the ground, in the pasture that now covers this west-facing slope, there is nothing obvious to see. The enclosure has effectively vanished into the landscape.

What remains is a subtle clue: a slight curve, about thirty metres of it, in a field bank that also marks the townland boundary between Ballybrack and its neighbour. This kind of boundary fossilisation is not unusual in the Irish countryside, where ancient earthworks are sometimes preserved almost accidentally within later field systems, their original form long gone but their outline quietly persisting as a kink or arc in a hedge-line or ditch. The enclosure sits toward the top of a slope that descends westward toward the Aughnascallop stream, roughly three hundred metres away, running on a north-northeast to south-southwest axis. That positioning, elevated and close to a water source, is consistent with early settlement patterns, though the site itself carries no confirmed date or attribution.

The 1925 OS map remains the clearest evidence that something was once here. Whatever the enclosure originally was, a ringfort perhaps, or some earlier form of enclosed settlement, it has left almost no trace at ground level. The field bank curve is the only physical remainder, and even that requires knowing where to look.