That ambiguity is precisely what makes it interesting. The site is caught in a kind of evidential limbo: recorded as a monument, yet so heavily disturbed by quarrying activity that separating genuine archaeological fabric from industrial debris has become nearly impossible. What was once a classifiable feature in the landscape is now a puzzle of mounds, banks, and curved earthworks that refuse to give a clear answer about their own origins.

The earliest detailed mapping of the area, the first edition Ordnance Survey six-inch map, showed a rectangular enclosure roughly 40 metres north to south and 30 metres east to west, its northern edge already clipped by a trackway. Rectangular enclosures of this kind are commonly associated with early medieval settlement in Ireland, often forming the boundary of a farmstead or small defended homestead. By the time the later edition of the same map series was produced, the feature had changed in character, appearing instead as a curvilinear element approximately 30 metres across on a north-northeast to south-southwest axis. Whether that shift reflects genuine archaeological complexity, the encroachment of quarrying, or simply differences in how surveyors interpreted what they saw on the ground is not clear. On the ground today, a short section of bank survives to the north of the site, roughly six metres long, with an internal height of around 1.25 metres and an overall width of just over five metres, but even this may be quarry spoil rather than an original boundary feature. A large curvilinear mound nearby corresponds loosely to the outline suggested by the later map, though the same caveat applies. The improved pasture to the south and east has left the southern margins ungrazed along the monument boundary, which at least preserves that edge from further agricultural pressure, even as the quarry to the west continues to define what can and cannot be known about what once stood here.