It is easy to miss, and the enclosure itself is largely gone, but the hillock it embraces still carries something peculiar at its summit: a circular grove of hawthorn bushes, inside which a bullaun stone, a boulder with one or more deliberately hollowed cup-shaped depressions associated with early Christian and pre-Christian ritual use, protrudes from the ground. Among the hawthorns, numerous other stones break the surface, which archaeologists recognise as a pattern consistent with a cillín, an informal burial ground reserved for unbaptised children who, under Catholic practice, could not be interred in consecrated ground.

The enclosure was recorded on the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1843, which means it was already a ruin by the time Victorian cartographers came through. A writer named Cooke, publishing in 1852 to 1853, documented the site and noted that a considerable number of human bones had been found within the destroyed enclosure, along with evidence of the practice of burying unbaptised infants there. What makes his account additionally striking is a small bronze pin he describes recovering from the site, fitted with a pendant ornament shaped like a crescent or new moon. Such an object sits at a curious intersection of early Christian and older symbolic worlds; the crescent form had pre-Christian solar and lunar associations across Atlantic Europe, and its appearance here, in a context layered with early religious enclosure, children's burial, and a bullaun stone, suggests the site carried meaning across more than one era of belief.