The field that once contained it has been absorbed back into farmland, levelled and reclaimed until nothing of the original structure rises above ground. What remains are two almost accidental traces: a kink in the line of a field boundary running east to south-east, and a stretch of hedgerow along the northern edge that has simply been folded into a longer boundary and kept, without anyone necessarily knowing why.

The enclosure was recorded on the first edition Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1839, where it appears as a small, neatly rectangular field, roughly 27 metres north to south and 20 metres east to west, with a stream running along its eastern and southern sides in a north-east to south-west direction. By the time the six-inch revision was published in 1900, something had already begun to shift. The western side had vanished from the map entirely, and the eastern and southern boundaries were no longer meeting at a right angle but had softened into a curving field boundary, suggesting the enclosure's original geometry was already being erased or absorbed. Enclosures of this kind in the Irish landscape are often the remnants of early medieval settlement activity, ringforts or their less circular variants, though without excavation it is difficult to say more about what this particular example once enclosed or who made use of it.

What is quietly interesting about this site is precisely the gap between what the cartographic record shows and what the land now reveals. The 1839 map captured the enclosure at a moment when it was still legible as a distinct feature; sixty years later it was already dissolving. Today, a visitor standing in the field would see nothing definitive, but the slight irregularity where the eastern boundary changes direction is there, a faint inflection in the landscape that the maps, read in sequence, help to explain.