The church that once stood here has not fallen into romantic ruin or been reduced to a scatter of dressed stone; it has simply vanished, leaving behind pastureland, headstones, and a possible standing stone that may predate the church itself by several centuries.

The parish carries the Irish name Cill Chonaill, meaning the church of St Conall, a dedication that ties it to an early medieval ecclesiastical tradition. Yet by 1838, when Ordnance Survey investigators were compiling their Letters, detailed topographical accounts intended to accompany the first large-scale mapping of Ireland, a local informant could already confirm that no remains of the ancient church were visible. The observation was recorded by the scholar and compiler Michael O'Flanagan, whose edition of the OS Letters was published in 1927. What stood here before that point, how substantial it was, and when exactly it disappeared, the record does not say. The association with a possible standing stone nearby adds a further layer of uncertainty; if genuine, it would suggest the site carried significance long before any Christian foundation, though the connection between the two features remains unconfirmed.

The graveyard itself continues in use, or at least has done so until relatively recently, which means the ground retains its ceremonial character even as the building that originally gave it meaning has left no trace above the surface. It is the kind of place where the name alone does most of the work, holding the memory of St Conall and his church in a landscape that has otherwise moved on entirely.