The tree grows from the north-east corner of a small rectangular structure, its roots threading through the rubble of whatever roof or upper walls once stood above the lower courses that remain. That detail, quiet and unremarked, tells you something about how thoroughly the building has been reclaimed.

The structure is modest by any measure: six metres east to west, three metres north to south, its walls built roughly from stone and now collapsed to a height of between 0.4 and 0.8 metres, the whole lot draped in moss. It sits on an east-west terrace within a coniferous wood, on rough grazing ground. Whoever built it paid close attention to the hillside: the north wall is cut about 0.4 metres into the upslope, a practical solution to the problem of building a level floor on an inclined site. The interior is indeed level, though scattered with rubble from the fallen upper courses. A gap of around 0.45 metres in the west wall may mark where the entrance once was, though nothing certain survives to confirm it. Hut sites of this kind, simple single-room stone structures, appear across Ireland in various forms and periods, associated variously with seasonal farming, pastoral activity, or the movements of people working land far from a main settlement. This one offers no obvious dating evidence, only its dimensions and its careful, pragmatic construction.