The ground is flat, the soil turned for tillage, and the circular ditch that once defined an ancient enclosure here has long since been ploughed level. Yet from above, in satellite imagery captured in August 2022, the outline of the thing is unmistakable: a near-complete ring, roughly 47 metres north to south and just under 43 metres east to west, emerging from the cropmark effect, where buried features alter the growth and colour of whatever crop sits above them. The ditch itself, estimated at somewhere between two and two and a half metres wide, traces almost the entire circuit, interrupted only at its southern arc where a later field boundary cut across it.

That field boundary, running roughly east-north-east to west-south-west, was already in place by the time the Ordnance Survey produced its first edition six-inch maps around 1838, and it still appeared on the third edition maps of around 1909. It has since been removed, but its former path is legible in the break it made in the enclosure's southern edge. The enclosure sits within a townland that turns out to be unusually dense with buried or vanished archaeology: aerial photography from 1990 identified multiple other enclosures in neighbouring fields, along with traces of field systems and what may be a moated site, the kind of rectangular, water-surrounded enclosure associated with Anglo-Norman settlement in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. A second cropmark enclosure lies only about 70 metres to the south-west of this one. Whether these sites represent a single period of activity or centuries of unrelated occupation layered over the same low-lying ground, roughly 67 metres above sea level and about a kilometre and a half west of the River Barrow, is not yet clear. No definitive entrance gap has been identified in this enclosure, though the imagery suggests one may have existed in the south-western arc.