The grass grows over it as it does everywhere else, and the only clue to what lies beneath is a slight scarp along the southern edge and a scatter of set stones barely visible above the surface. Those stones, aligned in north-to-south rows with the graves themselves oriented east to west, mark this out as a cillín, a children's burial ground of the kind once found across rural Ireland in considerable numbers.

Cillíní were informal burial places used for unbaptised infants, and occasionally for others considered ineligible for consecrated ground, including strangers and suicides. Catholic doctrine held, until relatively recently, that unbaptised children could not enter heaven, and so communities found their own quiet solutions, burying the very young in liminal spaces: old ringforts, clifftops, or, as here, enclosed plots at some remove from the parish churchyard. The rectangular enclosure at Tooreen measures roughly 12.5 metres east to west and 11.2 metres north to south. Its boundaries have largely disappeared above ground, surviving only as that low southern scarp, while a small stony mound near the eastern end is most likely the product of field clearance over the years rather than any deliberate monument. The site is described as very poorly preserved, which is itself a kind of record: centuries of agricultural work, grief conducted quietly, and the gradual loss of living memory have all left their marks.

The stones here are overgrown but present, which is more than can be said for many such sites, where even the grave markers are gone. Visitors approaching across the grassland should look carefully for the slight change in ground level at the south, and for the rough alignment of stones emerging through the turf. There is nothing formally managed or signposted, and the site asks for the same discretion that shaped its original use.