It measures just two metres by two metres, which makes it less a building in any grand sense and more an intimate shelter, the kind of modest stone enclosure that would once have served a single person or a very small group going about some seasonal task on the land.

What survives is a stone wall along the northern and eastern sides, roughly sixty centimetres thick and rising about forty centimetres above the ground. The southern and western sides are defined not by their own walls but by the outer face of an adjacent enclosure, meaning the hut was built into or alongside an existing boundary rather than constructed entirely in isolation. The bog has done its slow work over the centuries: the interior is level but obscured by rubble, and the surviving wall only protrudes above the surface of the peat in places. Bog environments preserve and consume in equal measure, and here the structure is caught somewhere between the two, half-revealed and half-swallowed. The relationship between the hut and the adjoining enclosure suggests a functional connection, a small working space tucked against a larger boundary wall, though the precise date and purpose remain unrecorded.