It is easy to miss, and easier still to misread. What looks at first like a casual arrangement of field stones is, on closer inspection, the remnant of a hut site, its walls still coherent enough to trace a roughly rectangular footprint measuring just 2.1 metres north to south and 1.3 metres east to west.

The walls, built from stone and surviving to a height of around 0.3 metres with a thickness of roughly 0.55 metres, are the kind that speak quietly rather than announce themselves. The entrance, a narrow gap of about 0.4 metres, faces north, which is an unusual orientation given that north-facing openings offer little shelter from prevailing weather. To the east, a separate enclosure abuts the hut directly, suggesting the structure was not a standalone shelter but part of a small complex, perhaps associated with seasonal grazing or some form of agricultural activity on the hillside. The bog that now covers the terrace has, ironically, helped preserve what survives, holding the lower courses of stone in place while the land around them became rough grazing.