That absence alone says something. The site looks west towards Portmagee Channel, and what remains of it is modest by any measure: a few courses of carefully laid stone, the ghost of a doorway, a single decorated lintel. But that lintel is the reason the site repays attention. Largely buried by collapse and slightly displaced from its original position, its outer face carries a carved programme that is unusual for a structure of this kind and scale. Two shallow Maltese crosses dominate the decoration, but between them sits a trapezoid shape above two concentric grooved rings, and to either side are rectangles formed with broad grooves. The combination is not easily categorised, which is part of what makes it interesting.

The oratory itself was a small rectangular building, roughly six metres east to west and four metres north to south internally, with walls averaging about 1.6 metres at their base. The inner faces were laid with large horizontal slabs set in a slightly corbelled arrangement, a technique associated with early Irish ecclesiastical construction, and several corner stones were cut to fit the south-western angle precisely. A fragment of an outer offset on the south wall, coped with end-to-end slabs, survives alongside faint traces of a window jamb. Beyond the oratory, a small bullaun stone, a boulder with a deliberately carved hemispherical hollow used in early Christian contexts for grinding or ritual purposes, was found in a nearby ploughed field during the 1930s and now sits just outside the doorway. The same decade, the Office of Public Works noted the foundations of what were probably beehive cells at the site, the drystone corbelled huts associated with early monastic settlements on the Iveragh peninsula. Françoise Henry, writing in 1957, recorded indistinct traces of buildings to the north of the oratory. None of those foundations are now visible at the surface.