No wall, no foundation course, no scatter of dressed stone breaks the surface. What remains is a name, Templemary, and a sequence of maps that record with quiet persistence the outline of something that had already gone.

By the time Samuel Lewis compiled his survey of Irish parishes in 1837, he could do no better than note "the ruins of an ancient church or chapel" on the site. Three years later, surveyors working on the Ordnance Survey Field Books found the site still "traceable" in some form, and their 1842 six-inch map records a rectangular structure of roughly twelve metres east to west and seven metres north to south, its eastern end crossing into the adjoining townland of Benanagh. Grove White, writing in his collection of Cork antiquities in the early twentieth century, drew on that same fieldwork. But the maps of 1842, 1905, and 1937 all carry the same cautious notation: "site of". Each revision confirmed not what was there but what was no longer there. Today, the ground offers nothing visible to stand on or point at.

The graveyard itself survives, which means the place retains a presence in the landscape even as the building it once served has dissolved entirely. Anyone visiting would be looking not for architecture but for an absence, a patch of ground in the northern part of the burial ground where a modest early church, dedicated to Mary if the Templemary place-name follows the usual pattern, once stood.