The Ordnance Survey's first edition six-inch map, surveyed around 1840, records this oval earthwork not as a ringfort, the circular enclosures that dot the Irish countryside in their thousands, but as a tree-ring: a deliberately planted, deliberately shaped feature of a designed landscape. Whatever stood here was ornamental rather than defensive, a piece of Georgian or early Victorian estate landscaping that has since been almost entirely erased.

The earthwork itself, recorded by Caimin O'Brien and uploaded to the survey in October 2021, measured approximately ten metres north to south and twenty metres east to west. It sat on a gentle south-east facing slope, the kind of aspect a landscape designer would have chosen with some care. By the time the record was compiled, ploughing or clearance had levelled the enclosing bank, and the curving field boundary to the west, which once traced its outline, had itself been removed, to the point where it no longer appears on satellite imagery. What is legible now is a slight roughness in the ground to the east of the surviving field boundary, and that single, telling deviation in the boundary line where the earthwork's western edge once ran.

The site lies in pasture, which means access would depend on landowner permission, and there is very little to see without some foreknowledge of what to look for. The value here is less in what is visible than in what the 1840 Ordnance Survey map preserves: a record of a feature that was already understood at the time as a tree-ring, not a prehistoric or early medieval monument. Comparing the historical map against the modern field boundary, and against the area of disturbed ground to its east, gives a reasonable sense of the earthwork's former extent. It is the kind of site that rewards those interested in how Irish landscapes were shaped and reshaped, not only in prehistory, but in the more recent and often overlooked age of estate improvement.