In a quietly undulating stretch of Kildare pastureland, a graveyard continues to receive the dead while offering no explanation of where the church once was. The roughly square enclosure, around forty metres on each side and bounded by a modern stone wall, sits on a gentle north-westward slope with no visible masonry, no collapsed walls, and no raised footprint to suggest that a place of worship ever stood here. Yet a church did stand here, or at least was recorded here, occupying the southern sector of the site.

The first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map, published in 1838, clearly marks a church within that southern portion of the graveyard. By the time anyone was compiling detailed records of the site, nothing remained above ground. Whether it fell into ruin gradually or was cleared away is not recorded, but the ground has kept its secret thoroughly. The earliest legible grave-markers date to the eighteenth century, which means the burial ground was active well before the OS surveyors arrived, and has remained so ever since. The parish of Nurney takes its name from the Irish An Urnaí, sometimes interpreted as relating to prayer or an oratory, which lends the missing church a faintly ironic resonance.

What a visitor finds today is an active, tended graveyard where the older stones, worn and in some cases tilting, occupy the same ground that once held a functioning ecclesiastical building. Looking at the southern end of the enclosure, knowing what the 1838 map recorded there, and finding only grass and grave-markers, gives the place a quiet strangeness that no signage explains.