They are easy to miss, and that is precisely what makes them interesting. These are not walls in any conventional sense but the stripped-back remnants of what were once field boundaries, their stone gradually plundered over generations for use elsewhere, leaving only the largest and most stubborn boulders in place.

The site was recorded by Healy in 1961, who noted five such parallel lines at the time. Only two now survive with any clarity. The boulders are closely set and placed on their long axes, standing between 0.6 and 1.15 metres in height, spaced roughly 20 metres apart from one line to the next. The arrangement strongly suggests a managed agricultural landscape, though the date of that landscape remains uncertain. Field systems of this kind, essentially organised divisions of land marked out by stone walls or boulder alignments, can belong to almost any period from the prehistoric to the post-medieval, and without excavation or associated finds it is rarely possible to say which. What the boulders do confirm is that this slope was once worked, divided, and thought worth organising, by someone whose name and era have not survived. The record was compiled by Geraldine Stout and Padraig Clancy, specialists in Irish field monuments, and last updated in July 2018.

The slope sits within rough upland pasture, so the ground underfoot is uneven and can be boggy depending on recent weather. The views from the site are broad, taking in Piperstown Hill to the north and the long hollow of Glenasmole to the south-west, which helps with orientation once you are among the boulders. The surviving lines are easiest to read when vegetation is low, so late winter or early spring, before the rougher grasses thicken, gives the clearest sense of how the alignments lie across the hillside.