Roughly twenty metres across and defined by a low scarp, it could be an early medieval ringfort, the kind of enclosed farmstead that once dotted the Irish countryside in enormous numbers, typically consisting of a raised circular bank enclosing a domestic settlement. Or it could be something else entirely: a post-1700 tree-ring, deliberately planted as a decorative landscape feature for the nearby Farnane House. After centuries of weathering and agricultural pressure, the monument is worn enough that neither reading can be dismissed.

The earliest cartographic record of the site comes from the 1840 Ordnance Survey six-inch map, which shows a circular banked enclosure already being cut across by field boundaries that post-date 1700. Those same boundaries suggest that whatever the structure originally was, it had already lost its primary function by the time systematic mapping began. The map also records Farnane House some 300 metres to the east, with a tree-lined avenue running south from the R506 for about 175 metres, stopping just 55 metres north of the enclosure. That proximity is suggestive. By the time the 1897 OS twenty-five-inch map was produced, the feature is described as a raised circular area defined by a scarp, with no surviving bank detail to speak of. Aerial photography taken between 2011 and 2013 by Digital Globe, and a Google Earth orthoimage from June 2018, both confirm the enclosure's outline in the south-east corner of the field, with the earthwork most legible on the eastern and southern sides and largely gone at the north and north-east.

The site sits approximately 130 metres east of the townland boundary with Toberagarriff, in open grassland. There is no formal access or interpretive signage, and the monument's poor state of preservation means there is little to see at ground level beyond a gentle rise and a partial curve of low earthwork on the south and east. The Google Earth imagery is genuinely useful preparation before any visit, since the plan-view makes the circular outline far clearer than it would appear on foot. What makes the place worth knowing about is less its physical presence than its ambiguity: a feature old enough to appear on Victorian maps, worn enough to have lost its story, and still uncertain enough that the question of whether it is prehistoric farmstead or Georgian garden ornament remains, for now, open.