That typographic choice was deliberate; gothic script on the early nineteenth-century OS maps was reserved for antiquities, signalling to anyone who could read the convention that this was something older than the landscape around it. The peninsula itself is a modest but distinct geographic feature, stretching roughly 725 metres from northwest to southeast and no more than 200 metres across at its widest point, with water on most sides.

The enclosure sits near the tip of this peninsula. On the 1834 OS six-inch map it appears as a subcircular embanked enclosure, roughly 50 metres across on its longer axis and about 40 metres on the shorter, the kind of proportions associated with a ringfort, an earthen or sometimes stone enclosure used in early medieval Ireland as a farmstead or place of refuge. By the time the 1907 edition was drawn, the site had become an oval enclosure in woodland, the trees presumably having grown up around or over the earthworks in the intervening decades. Aerial photographs taken in 1995 and 2000 show faint traces of the oval shape still legible in pasture, the subtle crop and soil variations that archaeology depends on when stonework and earthen banks have long since softened into the ground.

What makes the Toome fort quietly compelling is less any single dramatic feature than the accumulated logic of its position: a defensible or at least clearly defined piece of ground on water-bounded land, recorded by surveyors across nearly two centuries, and still faintly readable from the air even as it becomes harder to find at ground level.