There is nothing to see there now. The land has been drained and reshaped, and whatever once marked the site has been absorbed into the improved ground. The strangeness of the place is entirely a matter of what was once there, and what the name never quite meant.

Locally the well was known either as 'the friar's well' or as 'Tobar Patrick', a designation recorded in the Ordnance Survey Letters compiled by John O'Flanagan in 1927, which drew on earlier nineteenth-century fieldwork. Despite the name, the well carried no formal dedication to Saint Patrick, an anomaly that was apparently well understood by those who used it. Pilgrims came regardless. A mound was raised by local people to protect the well, and a well-worn path ran around it, used for performing stations, the traditional Catholic devotional practice of moving through a set series of prayers at fixed points around a sacred site. A cairn of small pebbles was kept nearby so that pilgrims could count their rounds or Rosaries, each stone marking a completed circuit. According to the landowner recorded by Knight around 1975, there were in fact two wells on the site, and a strong spring fed the one known as 'Tobernambraher', a name that suggests a connection with friars rather than with the apostle of Ireland. The cluster of names, the protective mound, the counted pebbles, and the worn path together indicate a site of sustained local devotion, one that operated outside the more formal framework of Patrician pilgrimage.