The site sits on a broad terrace with open views in all directions, the kind of position that tends to attract human activity across long stretches of time. Today, the field has been reclaimed for agriculture, and nothing at ground level suggests that anything was ever there.

What makes the place quietly compelling is the layered way it disappeared, and the way different records caught it at different stages. The first edition Ordnance Survey six-inch map, published in 1839, recorded a roughly D-shaped enclosure on the hillock summit, measuring approximately 62 metres north-northeast to south-southwest and 77 metres west-northwest to east-southeast. That same outline reappeared on the 1900 revision, suggesting the feature persisted in some form into the early twentieth century. The working assumption had been that this D-shaped boundary simply followed the natural contour of the hillock. Then an aerial photograph taken on 19 July 1971, part of the Cambridge University Collection of Aerial Photography, complicated that picture. From the air, a separate roughly circular enclosure became visible within the larger D-shaped area, around 30 metres in diameter, a form consistent with the kind of ring enclosures found across early medieval Ireland. Circular enclosures of this type, often called ringforts, were typically used as enclosed farmsteads, though some served ritual or ceremonial functions. At some point after that 1971 photograph was taken, reclamation work levelled all of it.

There is nothing to see at this location now, which is itself part of what makes it worth knowing about. The lower slopes of the hillock remain wet and grassy, and the extensive views the site commands are unchanged. But the enclosure itself exists only in an aerial photograph, two editions of an OS map, and the gap between what the ground shows and what the sky once revealed.