It is a cillín, one of the unconsecrated burial grounds found across Ireland where unbaptised infants, and sometimes others excluded from formal Christian burial, were interred for centuries. The lack of a boundary here is itself telling; there is no fence, no formal perimeter, only a natural scarp in the land that defines the edges of a roughly rectangular area measuring about twenty-one metres east to west and just over ten metres north to south.

Within that space, small set limestone blocks are arranged in north to south rows, marking burials that follow the conventional east to west Christian orientation, the body laid with the head to the west and feet towards the rising sun. The site sits on glacial ground, the ridge formed from material deposited by retreating ice sheets, and its elevated position at the ridge's southern tip would have made it a recognisable landmark in the local landscape long before anyone chose it as a burial place. Cillíní were typically chosen with care, often occupying liminal spots, boundaries between parishes, ancient earthworks, or, as here, distinctive natural features. The grief attached to these sites was real and enduring, even if the burials within them went largely unacknowledged by official record.