What makes it worth a second look is precisely how thoroughly it has been swallowed: the walls along the east and north sides have been incorporated into working field boundaries, blurring the line between ancient structure and modern farming infrastructure. The enclosure is not large, measuring roughly five metres across at its widest and just over five metres along its longer north-south edge, and the drystone wall that once defined it, built without mortar by setting stone against stone, has partially collapsed, leaving rubble scattered across the interior.

Drystone enclosures of this kind are a recurring feature of the Kerry countryside, used across many centuries for purposes that varied from settlement and stock management to ritual or boundary marking. Without excavation it is difficult to assign a confident date or function to this particular example. What can be said is that someone once took the trouble to build a carefully shaped trapezoidal perimeter on this hillside, with walls around sixty centimetres thick and perhaps eighty centimetres high when intact, overlooking a river valley that would have provided water and relatively sheltered ground below. The fact that later generations of farmers found the eastern and northern walls convenient enough to press into service as field boundaries suggests the structure retained a practical logic long after whatever original purpose it served had been forgotten.