Measuring roughly eleven metres north to south and eight metres east to west, and rising only about twenty-two centimetres above the surrounding ground, it is the kind of feature that most walkers would step over without a second thought. What makes it worth pausing for is what it is made of: burnt stone and scorched material, the accumulated debris of a fulacht fia, a type of prehistoric cooking site found in considerable numbers across Ireland. The typical arrangement involved heating stones in a fire, then dropping them into a water-filled trough to bring the water to a boil. The cracked and fire-shattered stones were discarded after use, and over time these cast-offs built up into the low, often horseshoe- or kidney-shaped mounds that still dot the Irish countryside.

This particular example had already suffered considerable damage before anyone thought to record it formally. By 1934, when Bowman noted it, the site had been levelled, leaving behind only the kidney-shaped spread of burnt material that survives today. The fact that it remains visible at all, even as a faint shadow on aerial photography, suggests the ground has retained enough of its original profile to register from above, where slight differences in soil moisture and crop growth can betray features that are otherwise invisible at ground level. That it endures in any form, in a working pasture field, is in itself quietly remarkable.