It leaves almost no impression on the modern landscape, and yet, under the right conditions, its circular outline surfaces briefly in satellite imagery, a ghostly ring visible from above but undetectable underfoot. This is the nature of a ditch barrow, a low earthen mound encircled by a shallow surrounding ditch, the kind of monument that can spend centuries absorbing rainfall and grazing animals without announcing itself at all.

The barrow was excavated in 1936 by the archaeologist Seán P. Ó Ríordáin, who recorded his findings in a paper published that same year. Working on the farm of a Mr W. O'Donnell, Ó Ríordáin investigated two similar barrows in the same field, each roughly 12 metres across. His description of this one is quietly evocative: a photograph from the dig shows a man and a boy standing at opposite edges of the circle to illustrate its diameter. When excavated, the surrounding ditch proved to be about 0.6 metres deep. Beyond that, the ground yielded very little. No artefacts were recovered, and the only hint of past human activity was that the original ground surface was, as Ó Ríordáin put it, "flecked with charcoal." He noted that other barrows could be made out in the field under certain conditions of vegetation, suggesting that the area once held a more extensive funerary or ritual landscape.

The site sits approximately 155 metres east of the townland boundary with Kilmurry, in ground that drains poorly, which partly explains why so little survives above the surface. A Digital Globe image taken between 2011 and 2013 showed no visible remains at all, but a Google Earth image from March 2018 caught the ditch outline clearly, demonstrating how much depends on season, soil moisture, and the angle of light. Anyone visiting should not expect to see a recognisable mound; the value here is in knowing what lies beneath, and in reading the field against Ó Ríordáin's account and the aerial photographs that periodically reveal what the grass conceals.