It is not a dramatic ruin. At only about thirty centimetres above the ground at its highest points and sixty centimetres thick, it reads more as a suggestion than a structure, a curvilinear line of old stonework interrupting the rough pasture at irregular intervals wherever the peat has not yet swallowed it entirely.

What makes the wall quietly significant is not the wall itself but its neighbours. Around sixteen metres to the east lie the remains of a hut site and a souterrain, the latter being an underground stone-lined passage, typically associated with early medieval settlement in Ireland and thought to have served for storage or refuge. Together, these three features point to a small community that once organised this wet, marginal ground into something liveable. The curving line of the field boundary, rather than running straight in the manner of later plantation-era enclosures, follows the older tradition of enclosing land in arcs and irregular loops that respected the natural contours of a hillside. The bog that now partially obscures it has, in a sense, preserved it; peat accumulation is slow and steady, and what it buries it tends to keep intact.