At its deepest it drops only twenty to thirty centimetres below the surrounding surface, and in places it has filled in almost entirely. What makes it worth pausing over is not its scale but its shape: two arms meeting at an angle, one running roughly northeast to southwest for about 120 metres before it meanders and fades, the other heading westward for around 70 metres from the southern end of the first. Together they form something deliberate, something planned, even if time has done its best to erase the evidence.

The feature was recorded on the third edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map, published in 1930, where it was marked as a linear fosse, which is simply a ditch or trench, angular in plan. That cartographic record is part of what lends the earthwork its modest significance: the map-makers noticed it, noted its shape, and even marked a gap at roughly its midpoint. That gap is still visible on the ground today, which suggests the fosse was not continuous but interrupted, possibly by design. The leading interpretation is that it formed part of a field system, a boundary or enclosure associated with agricultural organisation of the land at some unknown point in the past. No precise date has been established.