They are not visible at ground level. The trees have closed over them, the undergrowth has settled around them, and the casual walker would pass within metres without any sense that something was there at all. What we know of their existence comes largely from a cartographic source that predates the plantation: the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1843, which recorded both features with enough detail to suggest two distinct, roughly circular forms defined by closely set stones.

The enclosures measure approximately 22 metres and 30 metres in diameter respectively. Circular stone enclosures of this kind, sometimes called ring forts or raths depending on their construction and context, were a common feature of the Irish landscape from the early medieval period onward, serving variously as farmstead boundaries, livestock enclosures, or defended homesteads. Whether these particular examples fit that pattern, or belong to an earlier or later tradition, is not recorded in the available sources. What is certain is that by the time the Ordnance Survey's teams were working the Dublin uplands in the 1840s, the enclosures were sufficiently visible to be mapped with reasonable precision. Geraldine Stout and Padraig Clancy, who compiled the site record, have noted the steep east-facing orientation of the ground here, which would have made it a demanding but not impossible location for early settlement or land management activity.

Accessing the site today is complicated by the forestry cover, which makes both ground-level observation and navigation difficult. Three Rock Mountain is reachable from several points on the southern Dublin uplands, and the area is crossed by forestry tracks, though these do not necessarily bring a visitor close to the recorded locations of the enclosures. The 1843 map remains the clearest guide to where they once lay clearly enough to be seen and drawn, and comparing it against current mapping gives some sense of the ground. There is nothing to see on arrival in any conventional sense, which is itself a particular kind of historical experience; the record of a place outlasting the legibility of the place itself.