The site sits in rough hill-grazing country on bog, and when archaeologists visited in October 1988, they recorded a series of relict stone walls adjoining a nearby enclosure. Relict boundaries are the fossilised outlines of earlier agricultural landscapes, walls or banks that fell out of use long ago but survived because the land around them was never intensively worked. These ones did not survive much longer after being noticed.

By 1998, the picture had changed entirely. The whole area had been deep-ploughed in the intervening years, a process that can reach far enough into the ground to destroy sub-surface archaeological features as well as anything visible on the surface. The walls appear to have been broken up and displaced by that work, leaving only a disturbed, uneven surface and a scatter of stones where the boundaries once ran. It is a quietly deflating sequence: recorded, then gone within a decade of being recorded.

What makes the site worth noting is less what is there now than what the sequence of observations reveals. The 1988 record caught something at the edge of survival, and the 1998 follow-up confirmed its loss. The stones on the surface are not meaningless, but they no longer hold their original arrangement, and reading anything from them would take considerable guesswork.