They are salvaged pieces of the ruined church that shares the enclosure, repurposed by someone who needed a marker and had stone to hand. One of them is a chamfered window jamb, the kind of dressed limestone that would once have framed a church window, and it still carries the iron hole where a glazing bar was fixed. That a fragment of ecclesiastical architecture became a grave-marker speaks quietly to how communities worked with what remained when a building fell into disuse.

The graveyard sits on a north-west-facing slope of the Slieveardagh hills in County Tipperary, with higher ground rising to the south and east and open views across lower ground to the north-west and west. It is enclosed by a roughly coursed limestone wall, about 1.2 metres high and 0.45 metres thick, giving the site a compact, defined character. The headstones inside the church interior and to the south of it date from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, though the south-east end of the graveyard has no grave-markers at all, which gives that corner an odd blankness. Just outside the wall to the south-west, a holy well dedicated to St Patrick sits close enough to feel connected to the site, with a stream running between the well and the graveyard along the southern and south-eastern edges. Holy wells in Ireland were frequently associated with early Christian foundations, and the proximity of this one to the church suggests the site may have drawn on an older sacred geography before the present structure was built.

The stream between the well and the graveyard is worth pausing at. The combination of a ruined church, a saint's well, the recycled window jamb still bearing its glazing-bar socket, and the unmarked south-east ground gives this small site on the Slieveardagh hillside a layered, slightly unresolved quality that repays a slow look around rather than a quick one.