The site is known locally as the 'fort field', a name that has outlasted the structure it describes by long enough that nobody now alive would have seen the thing standing. The fort has been levelled, its earthworks smoothed away, yet the field still carries the name as a kind of fossil memory, the way placenames so often do in Ireland.

What survives are traces readable only to a trained eye or on paper. The Ordnance Survey mapped a 'Fort' here on both its 1836 and 1876 editions, confirming that something coherent was still visible, or at least cartographically acknowledged, through much of the nineteenth century. By combining those map records with what can still be observed on the ground, it is possible to reconstruct the rough shape of what once stood here: a roughly circular enclosure approximately 30 metres in diameter, its perimeter curving from the south-west around through west to north-west, with a low scarp, a gentle step in the ground, marking the eastern and south-eastern edges. A fort of this kind would typically have been a ringfort, a raised or ditched enclosure of the early medieval period used as a farmstead and homestead, sometimes by a family of local standing. Thousands of them survive across Ireland in varying states of preservation; this one did not make it.

The low scarp and the curve in the field boundary are all that remain as physical evidence, and even those are easy to miss if you do not know what you are looking at. The site is not signposted or marked in any way that would draw a passing visitor's attention. Its interest lies less in what you can see than in what the landscape quietly records when you know to ask.