It is barely two and a half metres across, its drystone walls, built without mortar by stacking carefully chosen stones, now collapsed to little more than thirty centimetres in height. Grass has crept over much of what remains, but the lower courses of the wall still protrude above the peat surface, preserving the outline of something that was once, in some capacity, a place where a person sheltered.

The hut sits in rough hill pasture in Coorleagh, in a landscape that clearly once supported more organised human activity than it does today. About a hundred metres to the north-east, the faint trace of a relict field boundary survives, the kind of fossilised division that suggests this hillside was, at some point, actively farmed or grazed in a structured way. A possible break in the south-east arc of the wall may mark where an entrance once stood. The structure is too small to have served comfortably as a permanent dwelling for a family, and such simple circular huts in the Irish uplands are often associated with seasonal pastoral use, though without excavation the date and precise function of this one remain open questions. The bog that now partially engulfs it has, in a quiet way, helped preserve what little is left.