The ground holds no visible trace of walls, foundations, or rubble; the site is simply a field within a burial ground, unremarkable to the eye. Yet cartographers working on the Ordnance Survey's six-inch map in 1842 still felt obliged to mark it, labelling the spot "site of church" as though acknowledging a presence the landscape itself had ceased to express.

The church was the ancient parish church of Kilquane, a building of nave and chancel, the two-part arrangement common to medieval Irish parish churches in which a rectangular nave accommodated the congregation and a narrower chancel at the east end was reserved for the clergy and the altar. By the time anyone thought to record its condition in any detail, it was already long gone. Writing in 1923, the historian Power noted that the building was a complete ruin at the beginning of the seventeenth century, which places its collapse somewhere in the late 1500s or earlier. What reduced it to that state, whether conflict, neglect, or simply the slow attrition of an underfunded rural parish, the record does not say. By 1842, the mapmakers were marking not a ruin but a memory, and at some point after that even the rubble disappeared, absorbed into the soil or carried off for other purposes.

What remains is the graveyard, which continued in use long after the church itself vanished. The northern part of the enclosure is where the church once stood, though nothing on the surface now distinguishes that ground from the rest.