A landlord had it capped, the water spread anyway, and today a pool collects in a hollow to the south of the old graveyard, fed by a continuous trickle that has never quite stopped. The well is dedicated to St. Coemhín, the name anglicised locally to 'Caveen', and its stubborn persistence in the landscape feels oddly fitting for a site that was, by all accounts, not easily suppressed.

The well sits at the end of a low ridge in the south-eastern corner of Abbotstown graveyard, on what is now a disused road within the former Abbotstown Estate. St. Coemhín is better known in Ireland as St. Kevin of Glendalough, and folklore collected from Blanchardstown schoolchildren in the twentieth century records that people once came from all parts to seek cures at the well, and that Kevin himself came there to pray. The trouble came when Lord Holmpatrick, the local landlord, decided the pilgrims were trespassing. He had the well covered with clay, but according to the same folklore, by the next morning the water had spread across his grounds, and he was forced to have a drainage channel dug to manage it. The well was also documented in a more clinical way: in 1757, Dr. John Rutty included it in his study of Irish mineral waters, listing it as the well of 'St. Commegan's near Lutterell's town', suggesting it had some reputation beyond purely religious interest. Gareth Branigan's 2012 survey of ancient and holy wells in Ireland confirms that the capping occurred in the 1700s and that the site has been seeping ever since.

The graveyard itself sits within the State Laboratory campus, which limits casual access, so visiting requires some forward planning. The well is not a formally maintained site; there is no signage or enclosure marking the spot, and the north-east boundary wall is a functional modern breeze-block structure with no particular atmosphere. What a careful visitor can observe, according to Branigan's description, is the pool in the hollow to the south of the graveyard, where the trickle from the capped well still collects. The disused road nearby, now overgrown, gives some sense of the older landscape the site once sat within.