The grass grows shorter and more stunted than the surrounding field, tracing out a shape roughly forty-one metres from north to south and thirty-three metres from east to west. Beneath the soil, something is interfering with root growth, and that something has been there long enough to appear on Victorian-era maps.

What makes this site particularly curious is its shifting identity on paper. When the Ordnance Survey recorded it on their six-inch map in 1842, the enclosure appeared rectangular. By the time surveyors returned for the 1904 edition, the same feature had been mapped as circular. Whether the shape changed in the intervening decades, or whether different surveyors simply interpreted the same ambiguous earthwork differently, is not clear. At the centre of the enclosure lies a souterrain, an underground stone-lined passage or chamber of the kind commonly associated with early medieval settlement in Ireland, typically used for storage or as a place of refuge. The presence of a souterrain suggests the enclosure was once part of a functioning settlement, most likely a ringfort or its equivalent, where people lived, kept animals, and stored food against the threat of raid or harsh weather. The crop-mark visible today is the enclosure speaking through the land, the buried boundary still shaping what grows above it.