The earthen bank that defines it is only twenty centimetres high, and stones push through it at intervals like knuckles through worn cloth. The interior, measuring five metres north to south and two metres east to west, sits a fraction above the surrounding ground level and tilts gently northward, with several shallow indentations pocking the floor. It is the kind of site that rewards attention precisely because it asks so much of the imagination.

A hut site of this type, at its most basic, is the ground-level remnant of a simple dwelling or shelter, its walls long since reduced to low earthen ridges. What makes this particular example quietly compelling is that it does not sit in isolation. Two further hut sites lie along the same east-west pasture ridge, one roughly twenty-eight metres to the west and another about fifty-five metres to the east. Whatever activity drew people to this exposed coastal strip, it apparently drew more than one group, or sustained a community across this stretch of shoreline over time. The ridge itself, with its occasional outcroppings of rock, runs beside the sea, and the setting would have combined exposure to Atlantic weather with ready access to the harbour and whatever the water offered.