Beneath a covering of grass, the foundation lines of five rectangular houses are still legible to a careful eye, arranged to the south and west of a church. What makes the grouping quietly arresting is the way one of the larger buildings, measuring roughly 11.2 metres in length and 5 metres in width, presses directly against the southern wall of the church, as though the two structures once existed in deliberate proximity, perhaps dependent on each other in some practical or devotional way.

The remaining four houses share almost identical proportions, each around 7 metres long and 3.5 metres wide, though they are oriented in different directions rather than laid out in any uniform plan. That near-uniformity of size across otherwise independently oriented structures is an intriguing detail; it suggests some common building tradition or shared social convention rather than purely ad hoc construction. Towards the western end of the cluster, traces of a low curving bank are still faintly visible, possibly the remnant of an enclosure that once defined the boundaries of the settlement. The date of the houses remains undetermined, and O'Flanagan, who noted the site in 1927, offered no firm period of occupation. The church they cluster around carries its own separate record, and the relationship between the ecclesiastical building and this small huddle of domestic foundations is one of those questions the landscape poses without quite answering.