The curve of that byroad, running along the townland boundary, appears to preserve the southern arc of a large early ecclesiastical enclosure, subcircular in shape and measuring over a hundred metres north to south and more than eighty-five metres east to west. The road, in other words, has been quietly following the ghost of an ancient boundary for centuries, long after the original structure that defined it was forgotten. Ecclesiastical enclosures of this kind, roughly circular or oval earthworks that once demarcated early Christian monastic or church sites, are found across Ireland, but they are rarely so legible in the ordinary landscape.

The northern portion of the enclosure is still physically present as a faint curving earthen bank, about four metres wide and half a metre high, running through the field to the north of the church. At the centre of this whole arrangement sits the church itself, almost exactly placed within the enclosure, surrounded by a roughly rectangular graveyard. Inside that graveyard stands a burial vault of some distinction, its roof built in a corbelled style, meaning the stones are layered in overlapping courses rather than supported by a keystone arch, a technique with deep roots in Irish and early medieval construction. An inscription dedicates the vault to one Edmundos de Burgo, dated 1730, placing it within the Burke family, the powerful Anglo-Norman dynasty whose descendants shaped much of Connacht's history from the thirteenth century onward. About forty-five metres west-northwest of the church, just inside what would have been the enclosure boundary, a spring well known as Corr was recorded on nineteenth-century Ordnance Survey mapping. The association of holy wells with early church sites is common in Ireland, and the well's position here, tucked within the enclosure, fits a pattern seen at many comparable sites across the country.