This moss-covered bank of stone and earth, measuring about 40 metres long and just over a metre wide, doesn't appear on any Ordnance Survey maps, suggesting it predates formal surveying or was considered too insignificant to record. The boundary is poorly preserved; its northern end disappears into a tangle of brambles near the field's edge, whilst the southern section curves gently southwestward before petering out entirely.

What makes this otherwise unremarkable field boundary intriguing is the peculiar arrangement of stones at its southern end. Here, a row of 10 to 12 large stones and boulders stretches for about 10 metres, each spaced roughly half a metre apart. Most are square or rectangular blocks sitting low to the ground, but three stones near the centre of this alignment stand out dramatically. These three uprights, each between 1.2 and 1.45 metres tall, have a distinctive triangular profile; rectangular at the base but tapering to sharp, angular points. They lean against one another like old friends sharing secrets, the northernmost tilting south to rest against its neighbour, which in turn leans on the third.

The true age and purpose of this boundary remain unknown, particularly the significance of those three tall stones. They could be later additions to an existing field boundary, perhaps placed there by farmers clearing stones from the surrounding fields. Alternatively, they might be remnants of something much older; an earlier wall or structure that was incorporated into the boundary when the land was divided. The stones stand firmly despite not being deeply set, their angular forms and deliberate placement hinting at a story lost to time, waiting in this quiet corner of Donegal for someone to decipher their meaning.