Scattered among the graves are architectural fragments salvaged from the ruins of the medieval church that stands in the north-west corner of the same enclosure. Carved stonework, dressed masonry, pieces that once formed part of a functioning place of worship, have been pressed into service as grave markers. It is an unselfconscious form of continuity, the living community borrowing from the fabric of the old to mark their dead.

The graveyard itself is roughly rectangular, measuring approximately 70 metres by 60 metres, and is enclosed by a hedgerow on flat pastureland. The ruined church, recorded in the archaeological inventory as DU007-008001, dates from the medieval period, though the notes do not specify a founding date. What is particularly interesting is the evidence for an even earlier phase of the site. South of the church, a ditched feature runs north to south for about 45 metres before turning and meeting a field boundary. This earthwork was identified as a probable earlier graveyard boundary by Mc Dix in 1892, suggesting the site has been in continuous or near-continuous use for longer than the existing ruins alone would imply. A formal survey of the graveyard was carried out in 1992 by Egan, and the record has since been revised and updated as recently as April 2023.

The graveyard remains in active use, so visitors should be mindful of that when exploring. It sits on open, flat pasture with clear views across the surrounding countryside, making orientation easy. The repurposed church fragments are worth looking for carefully; some may not immediately read as architectural salvage until examined closely. The ditch marking the older boundary is subtle on the ground and easier to trace by moving south from the church ruins and watching for the slight change in the field surface. There is no dramatic topography here, and that is rather the point: the interest lies in the layering of time across an ordinary-looking piece of ground.