Known locally as St Joseph's Well, it is an unassuming thing: a small, roughly rectangular hollow filled with water, its edges defined by flat stone blocks. A few coins glint beneath the surface, and to the south the low remains of a cairn, a modest pile of stones, suggest that people have been marking this spot in some form for a long time.

Holy wells occupy a distinctive place in the Irish landscape. They sit at the intersection of pre-Christian water veneration and Catholic devotion, often associated with a particular saint whose feast day would once have drawn local people for a pattern, a ritual circuit of prayer and offering. The dedication to St Joseph is relatively uncommon among Irish holy wells, which more frequently bear the names of early medieval Irish saints. The coins and the cairn remnants here are characteristic survivals of that devotional habit; small, personal acts of acknowledgement left by people passing through or pausing to ask for something. The site was documented by Tim Robinson, the cartographer and writer whose meticulous mapping of Connemara and the Aran Islands recorded precisely this kind of overlooked local knowledge.

The well sits on the southern side of the track heading east from Salrock Pass. Given its modest scale, it would be easy to walk past without recognising it for what it is.