You could walk across it without the faintest suspicion that anything lay below. The site is what was once called a fulacht fiadh, an ancient cooking place typically consisting of a horseshoe-shaped mound of burnt and cracked stones beside a water source, with a trough in which water was heated by dropping fire-heated stones into it. The method was efficient enough to have been used across Ireland from the Bronze Age onward, and fulachtaí fia are among the most commonly recorded prehistoric monument types in the country.

What makes this particular site quietly interesting is the combination of its invisibility and its company. By the mid-twentieth century it had already been reduced to nothing visible; the 1938 Ordnance Survey six-inch map records it as a site rather than a monument, suggesting the physical evidence had already been absorbed into the agricultural landscape by that point. A second fulacht fiadh lies roughly fifty metres to the south, which is not unusual. These sites frequently cluster near reliable water sources, and the stream running alongside both monuments would have been central to their original function. Whether the two were contemporary, or represent separate episodes of use across a long span of time, is the kind of question the ground no longer offers to answer.