The burial area is subrectangular in shape, raised just half a metre above the surrounding land, and measures roughly 22 metres east to west and 34.5 metres north to south. Numerous grave markers remain visible across the site. What makes it quietly arresting is not its scale but its layered identity: a place that has been mapped twice and appeared differently each time, recorded as a rectangular enclosure on the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1842 and then as a roughly circular area on the 1902 edition. Whether that shift reflects changes to the ground itself or simply differences in surveying interpretation, the discrepancy is a small reminder of how imprecisely the past reaches us.

Local tradition holds that victims of the Great Famine are buried here, and in two mounds situated close by to the south-east. That oral memory, carried from the mid-nineteenth century into the present, gives the site a particular weight. Famine burial grounds across Ireland were rarely formally consecrated or clearly demarcated; people were often interred quickly, in quantity, and close to where they died, which is why so many such sites exist at the margins of older burial grounds or in fields that would otherwise seem unremarkable. The proximity of an excavated souterrain to the west adds another layer to the site's long occupation. A souterrain is an underground stone-lined passage, typically associated with early medieval settlement and used variously for storage, refuge, or ventilation of a dwelling above ground. Its presence suggests the land here was significant long before the Famine.

The site overlooks Ballydivlin Bay, and while the grave markers are visible, the ground is not a maintained cemetery in any formal sense. It occupies a position where early medieval archaeology and post-medieval tragedy share the same soil, and where the cartographic record itself could not quite settle on a shape.