It is a hut site, roughly 2.2 metres in diameter, its drystone walls, built without mortar by laying flat stones in carefully chosen courses, now fallen to a height of around 0.4 metres. A narrow opening, just 0.3 metres wide, faces south-east, and the northern arc of the interior was cut directly into the rising hillside, so that the slope itself formed part of the back wall. Loose stones lie scattered across the floor.

What gives the site its quiet interest is not the structure alone but its context. It sits within a whole network of relict field boundaries, the ghostly outlines of an agricultural landscape that was once actively worked and is now given over to rough hill pasture. One of those old field walls runs up to meet the hut at its northern side, suggesting the building was integrated into a working system of enclosures rather than standing in isolation. A second hut site lies immediately to the west, hinting that this was a small cluster of activity rather than a solitary shelter. Together, they point to a community, or at least a seasonal working presence, making use of the higher ground, the kind of transhumance pattern, where people moved cattle to upland grazing in summer, that shaped so much of the Irish landscape before enclosure and land reorganisation altered it beyond recognition.