The walls have long since collapsed, grass has crept across the stonework, and what survives amounts to a shallow ring measuring roughly five metres east to west and just under two and a half metres north to south. Yet the gaps left in the east and west walls, where a doorway or entrance once opened, give the whole thing an unmistakable purposefulness. This was somewhere people came to shelter, to work, or to live.

The hut is built in drystone construction, meaning the wall was assembled without mortar, relying entirely on the careful placing of stones against one another. The surviving sections stand between forty and sixty centimetres high, with the wall itself about seventy centimetres thick where it can still be measured. What makes the site more than just an isolated ruin is its context. It sits within a wider network of relict field boundaries that spread across the ridge, suggesting an organised agricultural landscape that once extended across this now-open hillside. A section of one of those old field walls runs directly up against the southern arc of the hut, indicating that the enclosure and the dwelling were part of the same working system. A second hut site lies just two metres to the west, close enough to suggest the two were used together, perhaps seasonally, perhaps by the same community over generations. The precise date of either structure is not recorded, but this kind of upland settlement pattern, combining small shelters with a patchwork of enclosures, is a familiar signature of pre-modern pastoral farming in the Irish highlands.