The gothic script was the surveyors' convention for ancient or notable features, and here it dignifies what is, in physical terms, a quietly understated thing: a slightly dished, grass-covered circle about thirty metres across, ringed by an earthen bank and an outer fosse. A fosse, in this context, is simply a ditch, dug to throw up the material that forms the bank beside it.

When the site was examined in 1967, the bank measured between six and eight metres wide, rising roughly two metres above the outer ground level but only about half to three-quarters of a metre on the interior side, which gives a sense of how much the enclosed area has settled or silted over centuries. The outer fosse was still legible, though shallow, at around thirty to forty centimetres deep. No original entrance was identified during that examination, which is itself a small puzzle: enclosures of this type typically had a causeway or a deliberate gap, and its absence, or at least its invisibility, suggests either careful infilling at some point or simple deterioration. By 1995, the enclosure had been absorbed into a small planted forest, which is a fate common to many such earthworks in Ireland, where commercial or amenity forestry has quietly swallowed features that survived open farmland for a millennium or more.