No walls survive, no gravestones break the surface, and the ground gives little away. What remains is, essentially, a shape: a broad oval enclosure, roughly 110 metres on its north-east to south-west axis and 90 metres across, whose outline can still be faintly traced as a scarp, a low earthen step in the land. That this enclosure existed at all is partly confirmed by the 1838 Ordnance Survey six-inch map, which shows it clearly surrounding the site. The oval form is itself significant; in early Irish ecclesiastical contexts, a curvilinear enclosure of this kind often signals considerable age, sometimes pre-Norman in origin, marking out the sacred precinct of a monastery or church that may have served its community for centuries before it vanished from the landscape.

By 1990, a few fragments had surfaced nearby. A roughly rectangular granite font, a basin used for holding baptismal water, was found lying in a hedge at the north-eastern edge of the enclosure, beside the road. A little further around the site, at the south-east near a gateway, lay what appeared to be a cross-shaft, a rectangular granite piece with a boss or tenon at its upper end, the kind of projection designed to slot into a corresponding socket in a cross-head. These were loose, displaced objects rather than standing monuments, already separated from whatever context they once belonged to. When the site was inspected again in 2012, neither could be found. Both may have become overgrown, been buried under encroaching vegetation, or simply moved. A granite cross-head recorded approximately 160 metres to the north-west adds to the picture of a site whose fragments have drifted apart over time, scattered across the surrounding fields like the components of something that can no longer be reassembled.