The cairn is modest by any measure, roughly one and a half metres long, less than a metre wide, and just sixty centimetres high, built in the dry-stone tradition without mortar. What makes it quietly arresting is that combination: the sweeping view northward over one of Ireland's largest lakes, and the intensely local, very particular name attached to a structure that most passers-by would take for a collapsed field wall.

When first formally inspected in April 2002, the cairn was partially tumbled and largely hidden by briar growth. Its rectangular form and relatively modest dimensions suggest it may be a memorial cairn, possibly dating to the eighteenth century, though the local designation as a Fenian grave gestures toward a folk memory of something older or more charged. The Fenians, as a movement, belong to the nineteenth century, but the term was used loosely in Irish oral tradition to describe ancient warriors or heroes, so the name alone cannot fix the structure to any particular period. By the time of a follow-up inspection in January 2023, the cairn was still standing, just, though collapsed material had spread further around all sides and the surrounding scrub had thickened considerably, making the site harder to read than before.