A church once stood here, now entirely gone from ground level, and when surveyors recorded it in the Ordnance Survey Letters of 1839, they noted plainly that it had no burying ground attached. Yet local tradition has long held otherwise, and human bones recovered from a small paddock immediately north of where the church once stood suggest that the land has been quietly keeping its own record.

The OS Letters, compiled as part of the great nineteenth-century effort to document Ireland's topography and antiquities, recorded the church's existence but apparently found no formal graveyard associated with it. The first edition six-inch Ordnance Survey map of 1839 marks the relevant area as a roughly square wooded enclosure, approximately 45 metres north to south and 43 metres east to west, with the vanished church positioned in its south-western corner. That wooded patch, sitting above the flood plain of the Nuenna in what is now mixed tillage and reclaimed grassland, is where the bones came to light. Whether the burials predate the church, postdate it, or were simply never formally recorded is not known.

What remains is a landscape that looks, to most eyes, entirely unremarkable: valley farmland with open views in every direction. The church itself left no visible trace. Only the shape of the paddock on an old map, and the long memory of those who live nearby, marks this as a place where people were once laid to rest.