Sheep now graze the rough ground, and the walls stand just over a metre high, built from stone laid somewhere between 0.45 metres thick. It is modest to the point of near-invisibility, and yet the landscape around it has quietly arranged itself to tell a story about sequence and time.

The hut measures 3.6 metres east to west and 2 metres north to south internally, aligned along that east-west axis in a way that suggests deliberate orientation rather than accident. What makes it more than simply an old ruin is the detail of the townland boundary wall. Townland boundaries in Ireland are among the older administrative divisions in the landscape, many of them pre-dating the Norman period, though their precise origins vary. Here, the north-south boundary wall has been built directly over the hut's western wall, which means the structure was already standing, and already ruinous enough to be absorbed into the landscape, before the boundary was laid out. The hut is therefore older than the boundary, though by how much remains unclear. About thirty metres to the west, a cluster of similar hut sites suggests this hollow once held something closer to a small settlement or seasonal encampment, the kind of upland site associated in Ireland with transhumance, the practice of moving livestock to higher pastures during summer months.