Not fallen into ruin, not reduced to a few photogenic gables, but gone so completely that there is now no visible surface trace of it whatsoever. What remains is an absence, and the knowledge that something was once there.

The sole physical clue was recorded in 1934 by a researcher named Bowman, who noted a large mound of stones on the northern side of a burial ground. That mound was presumably the collapsed debris of the church itself, the kind of slow accumulation of tumbled masonry that marks a building long since abandoned and robbed of useful stone. The site sits within what is described as a possible early ecclesiastical enclosure, a term that refers to the roughly circular or oval boundary that frequently surrounded early Irish monastic or church settlements, demarcating sacred ground from the surrounding landscape. The presence of both an enclosure and a burial ground alongside the church site suggests this was once a functioning religious complex of some age, though precisely how early or how significant it was remains unclear. Since Bowman's observation, even that mound of stones appears to have gone, leaving nothing for a visitor to see at ground level.