It was not discovered through any deliberate archaeological investigation but turned up during monitoring of ground works for new forestry, the kind of routine oversight that occasionally surfaces something older and harder to place. Roughly 40 metres in length, the wall stands no higher than 0.75 metres and no wider than 0.8 metres, built in two or three loose courses of random field stones. What catches the eye, once you know to look, is that it is not quite straight. It bends to follow the natural contour of the slope, suggesting whoever laid it was working around the land rather than imposing a geometry upon it.

The wall is classified as a relic field boundary, meaning it predates the current arrangement of the landscape and no longer functions as an active division of land. In the surrounding area of rough grazing and bog, there is little to indicate when it was built or by whom. What the stones do preserve is a practical decision: someone once needed to mark or manage this particular piece of hillside, and they did so with whatever material the ground offered. About halfway along the wall's length, two transverse-set stones mark what appears to be an opening or entrance roughly 0.85 metres wide, wide enough for a person or perhaps livestock to pass through. That detail, small as it is, suggests the boundary was not merely decorative or territorial but part of a working agricultural system, one that has long since dissolved into the bog around it.