It is easy to walk past, easier still to mistake for a natural scatter of rock, but the arrangement is deliberate: two concentric rows of contiguously set stones, each placed tight against the next, tracing the outline of a circular structure roughly 4.8 metres across. The stones protrude only about 0.4 metres above the bog surface along the south-to-north axis, with intermittent traces continuing northward, the rest absorbed quietly into the ground.

This is a hut site, the footprint of a small dwelling, preserved partly because the bog that gradually claimed the surrounding landscape also sealed and protected what lay beneath it. The structure sits within a network of relict field boundaries, the ghostly outlines of an organised agricultural landscape that once covered this hill pasture. A section of one of those old boundary walls survives just a metre to the west of the hut, close enough to suggest that whoever lived here was part of a broader system of landholding and farming. The rush-covered, undulating ground now gives little sense of that former order, but the stones, where they still show, preserve the basic geometry of a life lived on this hillside.