From the air, its outline is distinctly D-shaped, roughly 52 metres north to south and 40 metres east to west, enclosed by a bank with an external fosse (a shallow ditch running around the outside) and a notably straight edge along its western side. That straight western wall is the detail that snags attention: genuine ringforts, the circular or oval farmstead enclosures common across early medieval Ireland, rarely have one. Something, at some point, intervened.

The site sits about 295 metres north of Glynnwood House, and the suspicion is that whoever shaped the grounds of that estate in the post-1700 period found an older earthwork here and quietly incorporated it into their designed landscape. By the time the first edition Ordnance Survey six-inch map was published in 1837, the feature was recorded as a grove of trees, a tree-ring of the kind that Georgian and Victorian landowners used to punctuate parkland with a flourish of formality. The underlying structure, though, has the dimensions and the enclosing bank-and-fosse arrangement that archaeologists associate with a ringfort, the type of enclosed settlement that was widespread in Ireland from roughly the early medieval period onward. The working hypothesis is that an existing ringfort was absorbed and reshaped into an ornamental planting, its ancient geometry softened into something that read, to eighteenth or nineteenth-century eyes, as a picturesque clump of woodland.

What remains visible today is the earthwork outline itself, detectable in the rough grassland when light and shadow cooperate, and legible in aerial photography from the early 2010s. The straight western side is the clearest signal that this place has lived more than one life.