The catch is that no one walking across the small field in question would have any idea. Whatever lies beneath the surface has left no mark on it whatsoever, at least none that the eye can detect.

The site was recorded by Geraldine Stout and draws on local tradition documented by Healy in 1975, which describes it as 'an old fort or burying place'. That double designation is worth pausing on. In the Irish landscape, early enclosures and burial grounds were not always distinct categories. Ringforts, which were circular enclosures typically used as defended farmsteads during the early medieval period, were so frequently associated with the dead in folk memory that they accumulated a whole mythology around them long after their original function was forgotten. Whether this site ever was a fort, a burial ground, or both, the tradition has kept the memory alive in the absence of any visible evidence.

Because nothing is visible at ground level, there is little to see in the conventional sense. The value of knowing about a place like this lies less in visiting it than in understanding how much of the Irish historical landscape exists only in local memory and in the records of fieldworkers patient enough to write it down. If you do find yourself in the area, the field sits in the northern part of the townland. It looks, by all accounts, like a field.