What makes it quietly unusual is the way nature and human ingenuity have merged in its construction: one side of the hut is formed not by built masonry but by the natural linear face of outcropping rock, pressed into service as a ready-made wall. The remaining curved side is drystone, the technique of stacking stone without mortar that has served Irish builders for millennia, though here only the lower courses survive, partially buried under peat that has been accumulating around them for an unknown stretch of time.

The structure measures roughly 2.9 metres north to south, with the straight southern side running about 3 metres along the rock outcrop. The walls that do remain stand only about 0.2 metres high and are 0.4 metres thick, so what a visitor encounters is essentially a ground-level ghost of a building rather than anything you could call standing remains. It sits within a larger enclosure, and a second hut site lies approximately 60 metres to the north, suggesting this was not a solitary dwelling but part of a small cluster of activity on this rough peaty hillside. The interior is obscured by rushes, which means the floor area and any features within it are effectively invisible without closer investigation. Whether these structures relate to seasonal farming activity, a more permanent settlement, or something else entirely is not recorded.