It is a sub-rectangular enclosure, roughly 31 metres north to south and 34 metres east to west, defined by an earthen bank and an outer fosse, the fosse being the shallow ditch dug to provide material for the bank itself and to add a further obstacle to entry or exit. What makes these earthworks quietly compelling is precisely their ambiguity: they could be early medieval, they could be prehistoric, and without excavation no one can say with confidence what function they once served.

The enclosure was recorded by Denis Power and uploaded to the national record in August 2011. The bank survives best along the south-south-west to west-north-west arc, where it still stands around 1.65 metres high on its outer face, dropping to 1.47 metres internally. Along the north-north-west to north-east stretch it has been absorbed into a later linear field boundary, the kind of quiet cannibalism that happens across the Irish countryside when farmers incorporate older earthworks into working divisions of land. The fosse, where it survives from the north-east around to the south-south-east, is modest, roughly 0.9 metres wide and 0.15 metres deep, worn down by centuries of grazing and weather. On the western and eastern arcs the bank loses definition and becomes more of a low scarp, and there is a gap of about 3.3 metres at the south, which likely represents the original entrance.

The site sits on a gentle north-facing slope that drops towards a valley floor, with the interior under permanent pasture. That slope is subtle enough that you might not register it until you are standing inside and notice the ground falling gently away ahead of you. Access is across farmland, so the usual courtesies apply: check permissions before approaching, and keep to field margins where possible. The earthworks are most legible in low winter light or early morning, when raking shadows pick out the surviving bank and the slight depression of the fosse against the surrounding grass.