The original structure has been levelled, and what remains is essentially a ghost: a raised scarp roughly 33 metres across, still ringed by the depression of a fosse, the wide ditching that originally enclosed the interior. That fosse measures about 6 metres wide, though it has largely silted and settled to a depth of just 0.25 metres, and the interior shows traces of broad cultivation ridges running across it, evidence that the monument was ploughed over at some point after it fell out of use.

By 1837, when the Ordnance Survey was producing its first detailed Fair Plan maps of Ireland, the site was already recorded simply as a circular enclosure annotated as "fort", a loose but common label that surveyors of that era applied to a range of early enclosures, from ringforts used as defended farmsteads in the early medieval period to older prehistoric enclosures whose original purpose had been long forgotten. Whatever it once was, the earthwork occupied a deliberate position: the south-eastern end of a ridge, the kind of elevated placement that would have made the enclosure visible across the surrounding landscape and, equally, given those inside it a clear view outward. A field fence running along the townland boundary between Galmoylestown and Martinstown now cuts across the north-east to east section of the perimeter, quietly fragmenting what the fosse once defined as a continuous circuit.

The site is not dramatic to visit. Its survival above ground is marginal, and much of what can be understood about its original form comes not from standing features but from aerial observation. A Digital Globe photograph taken in November 2011 reveals the monument as a crop mark, the buried remains expressing themselves through differential growth in the vegetation above, a reminder that the most substantial evidence for some of Ireland's oldest landscapes is now only legible from the air.