There is no dramatic mound, no tower, no obvious enclosure. What survives is quieter than that: a length of fosse, which is simply a ditch cut into the ground, running roughly thirty-seven and a half metres north to south and sixteen metres east to west, with a slight accompanying bank along its eastern side. Neither the ditch nor the bank rises much above twenty centimetres. At that scale, the whole thing could almost be mistaken for a natural crease in the land.

What makes it worth a second look is its position and its shape. The site overlooks a valley, and a stream runs from it down into that valley below. The L-shaped plan of the fosse suggests something deliberate, some enclosing or demarcating intention, even if the original purpose is no longer recoverable from what remains. Earthworks of this kind are common enough across Ireland, serving at various times as field boundaries, enclosures for livestock, or the outermost traces of settlements long since vanished into the soil. In this case the sparse surviving detail does not resolve the question. The low bank to the east and the angled ditch are simply there, holding their position above the valley, with the stream carrying water past and downward as it presumably always has.