A west gable retains the base of a window opening; the north, east, and south walls have dissolved so thoroughly into the ground that only grassed-over foundation lines mark where they once stood. Two cut-stone fragments lie within the interior, one an arch stone, the other part of a window jamb, the scattered remnants of a building that once measured nineteen metres long and five wide. The whole sits within a roughly rectangular graveyard on a low rise in ordinary pastureland, easy to overlook and easier still to walk past without registering what the ground beneath the grass is quietly recording.

Gwynn and Hadcock, writing in 1970, identified the site as an early monastery with an erenagh recorded in the eleventh century. An erenagh was a hereditary lay steward who managed church lands on behalf of an ecclesiastical institution, a common arrangement in Gaelic Ireland that blurred the line between secular landholding and religious administration. The presence of such a figure here in the eleventh century implies an already-established and functioning community, though the visible stonework gives little sense of its original character or scale. Close by, roughly six metres to the north-east, lies a feature recorded as Labbapatrick, a name of the type, combining leaba, meaning bed or grave, with a saint's name, commonly associated with early ecclesiastical sites and occasionally with a reputed burial place of a holy figure or a pattern site. The two features together suggest that what looks, at first glance, like an unremarkable field corner was once a place of some local religious significance.