Sixteen metres long, less than seven centimetres shy of being two feet tall, and only two and a half feet wide, it is the kind of structure that most walkers would step over without a second thought, if they noticed it at all. Yet it was considered significant enough to be recorded, measured, and assessed as part of a formal heritage process, which raises the question of what field boundaries like this one actually represent.

When archaeologists Quinn and Carroll examined the site in 2010, during a heritage assessment connected to a proposed wind farm at Dooneens, they found the wall oriented roughly northeast to southwest, with a single course visible in both width and height. It sits to the northeast of another recorded wall, designated wall 55 in their survey, and may originally have formed part of the same boundary system. No construction method could be determined from what survives, the stonework having been reduced to a grass-and-moss-covered ridge that retains only the faintest outline of its original form. Field boundaries of this kind were once the basic grammar of the Irish rural landscape, dividing land for grazing, tillage, or tenure, and accumulating across centuries of use, abandonment, and reuse. This one offers no date, no builder, and no clear function beyond the fact of its survival as a low scar in the earth.