The structure is modest almost to the point of invisibility: a low wall, now only about thirty centimetres high and a metre and a half wide, enclosing a roughly circular interior measuring just under four metres across. At the south-east, a gap in the wall, less than a metre wide, marks what was once the entrance.

This kind of upland hut site, a simple single-roomed stone enclosure likely used as a seasonal shelter by people working the higher ground, is the sort of archaeology that rarely draws much attention. There are no dramatic earthworks, no carved stones, no written record of who built it or when. What remains is the bare geometry of a small life: a person or a small group, a roof now long gone, a doorway just wide enough to step through sideways. The dimensions are precise enough to suggest deliberate construction rather than a natural formation, and the choice of a rocky shelf on the slope, sheltered from the prevailing west, has a practical logic that crosses any number of centuries.