At roughly 200 metres in length but rarely more than 40 centimetres high, it is the kind of feature that most walkers would step over without a second thought. What gives it interest is precisely that inconspicuousness: this is a relict field boundary, meaning a wall that has largely fallen out of use and partially collapsed, preserving in its remains the outline of an agricultural landscape that has long since been superseded or abandoned.

The wall begins at the south-southeast arc of a nearby enclosure, one of those circular or oval earthwork boundaries, typically of early medieval date, that once defined a farmstead or settlement. From that junction it curves uphill in a broadly south-southwest direction for about 55 metres, then straightens into a southward run of 78 metres, before curving again south-southwest for a final 72 metres. The variation in the wall itself tells a quiet story of time and neglect: some sections survive as only two or three stones across, while elsewhere the structure has collapsed into a spread nearly 1.8 metres wide, the original courses having slumped outward and settled into the hillside. That kind of spread, where a wall broadens as it falls, is a common indicator of considerable age and long disuse.