That uncertainty is, in its way, the most interesting thing about it. Local knowledge gathered in the early 1990s described a roughly circular area of around eight metres in diameter, defined by a stone wall and open to the south-southwest. It is the kind of modest, unassuming structure that appears throughout the Irish uplands, easy to walk past, easy to mistake for a collapsed field boundary or a shepherd's shelter. Whether it was ever anything more significant, a livestock pound, a small ring enclosure of the type associated with early settlement, or something else entirely, was never established.

When archaeologists went looking for it in 2005, they found nothing. An extensive search of the general area turned up no trace of the structure. This is not quite as surprising as it might seem. Stone walls in mountain grazing land are vulnerable to collapse, robbing for other building work, and gradual absorption back into the hillside vegetation. It is also possible that the original description, passed along through local memory rather than direct survey, pinpointed a location with some imprecision. The site sits above a valley now filled with coniferous plantation, which itself alters the character of the landscape considerably from what it would have looked like when the local information was first recorded.

What remains, then, is a placeholder in the archaeological record, a site defined almost entirely by its own absence. It gestures at something that local people once knew or believed to be there, on a slope with long views across changed ground, and which formal investigation could neither confirm nor dismiss.