What shows up in aerial imagery is a D-shaped enclosure, roughly 48 metres east to west and 40 metres north to south, its outline traced not by surviving earthworks but by a cropmark, the differential growth of vegetation above buried features that reveals buried ditches and walls to a camera above but nothing to a boot below. The enclosure was defined by a single fosse, essentially a surrounding ditch, and its distinctive flat southern edge runs for about 35 metres in a straight line, departing from the curved form that gives the shape its name.

That straight southern side is where the site becomes genuinely curious. It coincides with the northern edge of a rectangular pond measuring roughly 30 metres by 20 metres, one that was real and functional enough to be recorded on the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1902, and which remains visible on aerial photographs today. A drain running roughly north-northeast to south-southwest passes through the interior of the enclosure from the pond's northern edge, suggesting that water management was either built into the site's original design or became part of its later life. The relationship between the ancient enclosure and the post-medieval pond is unresolved; it may be coincidence, or the pond may have been cut into a boundary that was already ancient by the time the surveyors arrived. The site sits on the north-east facing slope of a low ridge no more than two to four metres high, subtle enough that it barely registers as topography. It was first brought to wider attention by Jean Charles Caillére, and the cropmark itself only became clearly legible through aerial mapping in 2022.