Captured on the 1922 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map and still visible in an aerial photograph taken in June 1963, the walls curved from northeast through south to north in a broad arc, measuring roughly 47 metres along the northeast-southwest axis and about 38 metres northwest to southeast. That particular shape, and those particular proportions, prompted a reasonable suspicion: the walls might have been following the ghost of a ringfort, the circular or oval earthwork enclosures that served as defended farmsteads across Ireland from the early medieval period onwards, often leaving their circular footprint fossilised in later field patterns long after the original earthwork itself had been ploughed or worn away.

A second, more pragmatic boundary, running roughly north-northeast to south-southeast, cut straight across the curved arrangement, suggesting it was added later with little regard for whatever older logic the curving walls may have preserved. When the site was inspected on the ground, however, all of the curving walls had been cleared away, leaving only that single straight boundary still standing. Without the physical evidence to examine, the case for any underlying archaeological feature could not be made with confidence, and the site stopped short of being formally accepted as an archaeological monument. What the maps and the aerial photograph recorded, and what the land itself no longer holds, is a small illustration of how much can be lost between one generation of field clearance and the next, and how often the traces of older landscapes survive only in paper and light.