The Ordnance Survey recorded this part of Ireland in 1838 and again in 1916, and on neither occasion does this enclosure appear. Whatever community once buried its dead here had long since stopped doing so, and the ground had quietly reverted to field, leaving only a slight elevation and some softened earthworks as evidence that the place had ever served a different purpose.

The site is roughly rectangular, measuring around 40 metres east to west and 30 metres north to south, with a ruined stone church at its centre. The northern boundary is the most legible, defined by a grass-covered scarp about 1.5 metres high whose profile is sharpened by a natural fall of ground towards a stream some 75 metres away. The eastern edge survives too, though lower and more slumped. Towards the south-west the perimeter dissolves entirely, and a field wall cuts across the whole enclosure on a north-west to south-east axis, merging into the south wall of the church, a sign of how thoroughly agricultural use reorganised the landscape after the graveyard fell out of use. The southern portion of the enclosure tells a different story: it became a cillin, a children's burial ground, the kind of informal site where unbaptised infants were interred outside the rites of the established church. This small platform abuts the south wall of the ruined church and represents a later, separate phase of use, the ground repurposed for a community that had nowhere else to bury its most vulnerable dead.

No grave markers are visible in the areas to the west, north, or east of the church, which suggests the main graveyard went out of use well before even the earliest modern maps were drawn. What remains is topography rather than legible burial ground, a faint geometry of scarps and slopes that only makes full sense once you know what you are looking at.