At its centre, almost swallowed by the earth, is a prehistoric cist, a small stone-lined burial box of the kind used during the Bronze Age to inter cremated or inhumed remains. What makes this one quietly compelling is the precision of its survival: a single roofstone, roughly 1.5 metres by 1.4 metres, rests on four upright slabs arranged to form a rectangular chamber just over a metre long and barely a quarter of a metre high, its opening facing north. A small pad-stone props the roofstone on the western side, a detail that speaks to whoever laid this out with considerable care.

The chamber itself sits within a mound of around four metres in diameter, and the slabs are disposed with some deliberateness: two along the eastern side, one on the west, and one sealing the southern end. Immediately north of the roofstone, two further low uprights protrude from the surface of the mound, so slight that they barely register above the turf. Whether they were originally part of the cist structure or represent some separate, perhaps later feature is unresolved. Adding to the sense that this small corner of Cork was once a place of some significance, a stone row, the kind of prehistoric alignment of standing stones found elsewhere across Munster, lies approximately 185 metres to the east, suggesting this cist did not exist in isolation but within a wider ceremonial or funerary landscape whose full extent we can only partially read today.