Lodged into the northwestern section of the enclosure wall is an unfinished millstone, roughly 82 centimetres across and 35 centimetres thick, its surface never completed, its purpose here entirely unexplained. It may have been repurposed as convenient building material, or it may have arrived by some other, now unrecoverable, logic. Either way, it sits there in the drystone facing like a question nobody thought to answer.

The burial ground itself is a subrectangular enclosure, approximately 27 metres east to west and 25 metres north to south, defined by an earthen bank with drystone facing on its outer face. The bank rises to nearly a metre and a quarter on the exterior, though it barely clears the ground on the interior, giving the space a subtly sunken, enclosed quality. There is no sign of a fosse, the defensive or boundary ditch that often accompanies early ecclesiastical or funerary enclosures, and no identifiable original entrance survives. Most of the graves are marked by low, uninscribed slabs, plain stones with no name, date, or ornament to identify who lies beneath them. The earliest legible gravestone dates to the early nineteenth century, though the unmarked graves suggest the ground was in use long before anyone thought to record a name in stone. Whether the site has earlier, pre-Christian origins or simply reflects a rural tradition of modest burial is not something the physical remains settle cleanly.