These stones, which typically bear one or more cup-shaped depressions worn or cut into their surface, were often connected with healing practices, cursing rituals, or the grinding of materials. The fact that they have been incorporated into a later boundary wall is itself quietly telling, a sign that earlier features were simply absorbed into the fabric of the site as it evolved over centuries.

The graveyard itself is irregular in outline, measuring roughly 90 metres north to south and 57 metres east to west, and it contains the remains of a medieval church positioned slightly south of centre within the enclosure. Writing in 1892, a commentator named White described the site as being well enclosed, a detail confirmed by the surviving stone wall, which still stands to around 1.2 metres in height on most sides. The western wall is a more recent addition, and evidence suggests it was extended outward by approximately four metres at some point. Inside the enclosure, a low grass-covered bank running parallel to the western wall appears to be the buried remnant of an earlier boundary, the original line now invisible to a casual eye but legible once you know to look for it. The oldest surviving headstones, dating to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, are concentrated inside the church ruins and clustered to the south of the building, suggesting that the most sheltered or symbolically significant ground was reserved for the earliest marked burials.