The boundary runs for roughly 200 metres in a broadly north-south direction, threading along the foot of a rounded hill where the land shifts from drier, firmer ground on the eastern side to wetter, boggier terrain to the west. It is precisely the kind of distinction that would have mattered to whoever first laid these stones out, marking the usable edge of rough mountain grazing from the encroaching bog.

Relict field boundaries of this kind are the residue of agricultural organisation that predates modern land division, often by centuries. The stones are not mortared or coursed; they simply protrude from the peat in a single line, the boundary having been gradually absorbed into the landscape around it. One stone stands noticeably taller than its neighbours, and it has been suggested that this upright marks a former gap, the point where livestock would have been moved through. Tony Miller, who recorded the feature in December 2014, noted this detail alongside the broader lie of the boundary and its relationship to the surrounding topography. That relationship, a wall following the natural transition between two different kinds of ground, suggests the boundary was laid with an intimate knowledge of how this particular hillside behaved across the seasons.