What survives is the collapsed drystone wall of a circular hut, just 2.8 metres in diameter, its remains no more than 0.3 metres high in places and 0.7 metres thick. It is modest to the point of near-invisibility, the kind of structure that rewards attention precisely because it asks for none.

The construction detail preserved here is quietly telling. Whoever built this hut understood the slope beneath it. The eastern portion of the interior floor was cut roughly 0.3 metres into the uphill side, while the western portion sits raised by about 0.2 metres, the two adjustments working together to produce a roughly level living surface on ground that would otherwise tilt uncomfortably. A possible entrance faces west-northwest. The drystone technique, in which stones are stacked without mortar and rely on careful placement and their own weight for stability, was common across Irish upland sites for centuries, used by seasonal farmers, herders, and those living at the margins of more settled land. Without excavation, it is not possible to date this particular structure precisely, but such hut sites in the Kerry uplands are often associated with transhumance, the practice of moving livestock to higher pastures in summer, a pattern of land use that shaped these hillsides across a very long stretch of Irish rural life.