Individually they are unremarkable, averaging little more than a foot in height and only a few centimetres wide, but arranged in a line stretching roughly twenty-seven metres, they are the remains of a field boundary that once divided this land into something purposeful and managed. What is quietly strange about this place is precisely that strangeness: someone farmed here, or at least organised the ground, and the bog has been slowly swallowing the evidence ever since.

Relict field boundaries of this kind are a common enough feature of the Irish upland landscape, and they often predate the bog itself. In many cases, peat growth accelerated after prehistoric or early medieval farming activity stripped the surrounding vegetation and altered drainage patterns, preserving beneath it the very walls and ditches that contributed to that change. The Caherbarnagh example was recorded in the mid-1990s, when the stones were still visible above the peat surface. By the time a follow-up inspection was attempted in July 2005, dense forestry had closed off access entirely, leaving the boundary in a kind of double obscurity, buried partly by bog and partly by plantation.