The building has vanished so completely that there is no visible surface trace left to indicate where it stood, only the ground itself, which continues to receive the dead as it presumably has for centuries. That kind of total disappearance is unusual even by the standards of rural Ireland, where ruined churches are common enough, and it gives the site a quietly unsettling quality.

The graveyard as it exists today is a large, rectangular enclosure running roughly 190 metres north to south and about 98 metres east to west, but that scale is the result of steady, documented expansion over nearly two centuries. The original core sits at the south-east corner, a much smaller area of approximately 60 by 30 metres, bounded by a low earthen bank to the north and west. The earliest headstone recorded there dates to 1755, and the section also contains several burial vaults and a number of low, uninscribed grave markers, the kind that name nobody and mark only the fact of burial. Sometime in the early nineteenth century the ground was extended westward to a field boundary, with the earliest headstone in that newer section dated 1829; two further burial vaults and additional headstones were set into the low bank dividing old from new. Ordnance Survey maps chart what followed: a northward extension of around 33 metres recorded on the 1904 six-inch map, then a further push of roughly 72 metres shown on the 1937 edition, and subsequent expansions that eventually took in the rest of the field and pushed beyond the northern edge altogether. What began as a compact churchyard attached to a now-vanished building has grown, in increments, into something considerably larger than its origins would suggest.