That quiet anonymity is, in its own way, the most telling thing about it. What was once marked on an 1840 Ordnance Survey map as Tobereracran, a named holy well with an active devotional life, has slipped so thoroughly from local memory that it is no longer recognised as a holy well at all.

The folklorist Caoimhín Ó Danachair recorded the site in 1955, drawing on both the map evidence and the Ordnance Survey Name Books, those nineteenth-century field notebooks compiled by surveyors and local informants as part of the great mapping project of the 1830s and 1840s. The Name Books entry, quoted by Ó Danachair, notes that stations were formerly performed at Toberacran, but that by the time of writing it was already seldom frequented. Stations, in this context, refers to the practice of moving between fixed points around a holy well or sacred site while reciting prayers, a form of devotional circuit that was once common across Ireland and is still observed at a small number of sites. The well's name contains the Irish word tobar, meaning well, though the second element remains less easy to unpick with certainty from the available record.

By 1955 the transformation was already well advanced: the well proper had become, in Ó Danachair's description, a small batch of swamp from which a clear stream flows. There is no formal access or signage, and the site does not appear to be maintained or visited in any devotional capacity. Anyone with an interest in the archaeology of sacred landscape or the quieter ends of Irish folk religion might find it worth locating on an old map and comparing that against what the ground now shows, which is to say, very little that announces itself. The interest lies precisely in that gap between the named, mapped, prayed-at place and the unmarked wetland it has since become.