Not ruined, not overgrown, but simply gone, leaving no visible trace and no local memory of where they once stood. That kind of erasure is unusual even by the standards of Ireland's many lost ecclesiastical sites, where at least a gable wall or a scattering of headstones tends to survive.

The record of the site rests almost entirely on a single observation made by Bowman in 1934, who noted a church site and burial ground on land then belonging to a Mr Kenny, adding with some economy that there was no sign of either at that point. Decades later, the exact location remained unknown locally, which suggests the site had already passed out of living memory by the time Bowman visited. One candidate has been proposed: a small triangular parcel of ground, roughly fifteen metres along its longer axis and ten metres across, sitting at the junction of two roads. It is enclosed by an earthen field fence about a metre high and is never cultivated. That last detail carries some weight. In rural Ireland, small irregular patches of ground left deliberately untouched at field boundaries or road junctions sometimes mark the location of a forgotten burial place, the reluctance to disturb them persisting long after the reason for that reluctance has been forgotten.

Nothing about the triangular enclosure has been confirmed archaeologically, and it may amount to nothing more than an awkward corner of land that was never worth ploughing. But the combination of its shape, its position, and its consistent exemption from cultivation makes it at least worth a second glance for anyone passing through Garraunawarrig on the back roads of north Cork.