It is easy to miss: the walls, built from rough drystone masonry laid without mortar, survive to a maximum height of only forty centimetres at the northern side, and much of the southern boundary has collapsed into a scatter of loose stone. Yet the proportions, fifteen metres by just over twelve, are deliberate and considered, and a gap on the eastern side is thought to represent an original entrance.

Enclosures of this kind are common companions to early monastic oratories in the west of Ireland, often serving as subsidiary spaces for prayer, burial, or the practical business of a small religious community. What makes this example quietly particular is the small rectangular stony mound just outside the north-western corner. It is thought to mark a grave, and one of relatively recent origin at that, suggesting that the site retained some significance as a place of burial long after any formal religious activity had ceased. The association between these old ecclesiastical enclosures and continued local veneration is not unusual along the Atlantic seaboard, but finding it preserved in such a compact and legible form, on an island that sees few visitors, gives the detail an uncommon weight.