What makes it quietly interesting is not its scale, which is modest, roughly 7.3 metres east to west and 4.4 metres north to south, but the care that went into its original construction. Whoever built it cut the northern portion of the interior into the hillslope to a depth of around 0.6 metres, effectively levelling the ground inside despite the gradient. That kind of deliberate shaping suggests the space mattered to the people who made it, even if what it was used for is no longer obvious.

Drystone enclosures of this type, built without mortar by stacking and fitting stones together, are found throughout the west of Ireland, and they survive in varying states of collapse depending on how long they have been left and how heavily the land around them has been worked. Here, rubble from the upper courses of the wall has spread both inward and outward, leaving a low, spread profile rather than a standing structure. The wall, where it can be measured, was originally around 0.65 metres thick and still stands to roughly 0.6 metres in places. That it sits within a wider field system suggests it belongs to a broader pattern of land use rather than standing in isolation, though the age of either the enclosure or the field system is not recorded.