When the Ordnance Survey first mapped it in 1839, surveyors recorded a D-shaped form, its western side running in a straight line roughly north-northwest to south-southeast, giving it that distinctly flat edge. By the time the revision was completed between 1899 and 1902, the same enclosure was recorded as roughly oval, measuring approximately 45 metres north to south and 40 metres east to west. Whether the shape genuinely shifted in the ground, or whether later surveyors simply read the earthwork differently, is not entirely clear, but the discrepancy is the kind of small puzzle that makes old maps worth studying carefully.

The site sits in pasture, and today the enclosure is no longer visible as an upstanding earthwork at all. What the most recent aerial photography reveals instead is a cropmark, the kind of subtle tonal variation in growing vegetation that betrays buried archaeology beneath the surface. Cropmarks form when buried ditches or banks affect how deeply rooted plants access moisture and nutrients, causing them to grow fractionally taller or shorter, greener or more parched, than the surrounding crop. The 1839 map also showed a field boundary running east-northeast from the north-eastern quadrant of the enclosure, and this boundary, along with the straight north-northwestern edge, still appears to trace the northern perimeter of the monument in the aerial imagery. Two further east-west boundaries, one leaving the north-western perimeter and one from the south, were added in the later revision, suggesting the enclosure had become thoroughly absorbed into the working field system by the late nineteenth century, its ancient edges repurposed as practical agricultural divisions.