What remains is a D-shaped hut, roughly two metres across, defined on one side by a curving collapsed wall of undressed stone and on the other by something that required no construction at all: the natural linear face of a rock outcrop, pressed into service as a ready-made wall. That combination of human effort and opportunistic geology gives the place a particular character. Whoever built here did so simply, using what the hillside offered.

The built portion of the wall, where it survives, stands around 0.7 metres high and runs to a thickness of 0.6 metres, the kind of rough but solid construction associated with shelters that were functional rather than permanent. A gap on the south-east side may mark where an entrance once stood, though fallen rubble scattered around the perimeter makes the full original outline harder to read. Structures like this appear across Irish upland landscapes and are often associated with seasonal use, whether for sheltering animals, housing those minding them during summer grazing on higher ground, or other agricultural purposes that required only a temporary base. The Clydagh valley below would have provided the lowland context for such activity, with the slope above used in the warmer months and then largely left alone.

The site sits in terrain that is genuinely rough, with rock outcrops emerging from hill pasture on a slope that faces south-west into the prevailing weather. That orientation, while exposed, would have offered some advantage in terms of light and warmth, which may have been part of why this particular spot was chosen. The rock face that forms the straight north-west wall would have provided natural shelter from that quarter. It is the kind of small, practical decision-making that leaves almost no documentary trace, only a low curve of fallen stone on a hillside that most people would walk past without a second glance.