No bank, no wall, no obvious earthwork marks it out from the surrounding pasture. It survives instead as a ghost, its southern edge faintly legible on aerial photography taken in March 2011, visible only because grass and soil retain a kind of memory that the eye at ground level cannot read.

The 1933 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map recorded a subrectangular enclosure measuring roughly 65 metres on its northeast-to-southwest axis and around 45 metres across. The cartographers marked its eastern, southern, and western sides with hachures, the conventional symbol for an earthen bank or boundary, and noted a fosse, a defensive or demarcating ditch, running along the eastern side and the eastern end of the southern side. A fosse of this kind was a common feature of early Irish enclosed settlements, used to define and reinforce a perimeter. By the time the map was made, a field boundary was already cutting across the site from northeast to west, and the northern portion of the enclosure showed no trace at all. The landscape had been quietly absorbing it for some time. What the 1933 map preserved, then, was less a living monument than an outline of something already well on its way to vanishing.