No spring, no hollow, no trace of stonework breaks the surface of the improved pasture where it is recorded to have stood. What remains is essentially a coordinate and a name, the kind of survival that tells you more about what has been lost than about what was ever there.

The only real description of the site comes from John O'Donovan's Ordnance Survey Namebooks of 1840, compiled during the great nineteenth-century effort to map and document Ireland townland by townland. O'Donovan noted a well and, immediately beside it, a small cairn, which is a low mound of heaped stones, with a cross upon it. The pairing is a familiar one in Irish devotional geography: a water source associated with sanctity, and a modest stone marker denoting that this was a place people came to with intention. By the time the land was improved for pasture, both the well and whatever remained of the cairn's cross had vanished beneath the altered ground. The cairn itself survives as a separate recorded feature nearby, but the well has left nothing visible behind it.