The site at Kilbragh sits on a low ridge in undulating Tipperary pasture, and when Ordnance Survey officers came through the area in that year, they noted a roughly circular enclosure on their six-inch maps, with a rectangular church at its centre. Their accompanying letters, recorded by O'Flanagan, are matter-of-fact about the situation: there was, they wrote, 'no interment made at this place'. The church itself had already fallen, and what remains today is a single lump of masonry half-swallowed by an earthen mound, the rest of the structure collapsed and buried beneath accumulated soil.

The landscape around the mound is quietly legible once you know what to look for. A curving earthen bank arcs eastward from the south-east angle of the church mound, possibly a remnant of the original enclosure wall, though it cannot be traced to the north. Some 23 metres to the west, a scarp curves to the north-east, which may define the western sector of the same enclosure. Earthworks spread across the surrounding field too, and not all of them belong to the graveyard; some may represent the footprint of a settlement that once clustered around the church, a common pattern in early Irish ecclesiastical sites where a small community of lay people or religious lived close to the place of worship. The broader setting reinforces that sense of long, layered occupation: two ringforts, the circular enclosures associated with early medieval farmsteads, are visible on the hillside to the north-north-west, and the tree-covered hill bearing the Tullamain motte and bailey, a form of earthwork fortification introduced by the Normans, can be seen roughly a kilometre to the south-east.