That uncertainty is itself part of what makes the place worth attention. The peat that once blanketed this entire area has been stripped away, exposing both the wall and the structure exactly as they were built, directly on the original ground surface. What emerged from beneath the bog is a collapsed but still legible arrangement of stone, its original purpose unresolved.

The structure abuts the southern side of a pre-bog field wall, one of those boundaries that predate the formation of the blanket peat and therefore speak to a landscape that was farmed and organised long before the bog swallowed it. The wall runs roughly east-north-east to west-south-west along the ridge. Tight against it, the remains of a narrow chamber can be traced: at least 1.75 metres long and around 0.55 metres wide, defined on its north-west side by the collapsed wall itself, and on its south-east side by two upright slabs that taper in height from roughly 0.75 metres at the open south-west end down to about 0.42 metres at the collapsed north-east end. A large flat slab now rests partly across the field wall and partly over the chamber; this is likely a capstone, displaced from its original position. A capstone is the covering slab of a stone-built chamber, and its presence here suggests the structure was once enclosed overhead, though whether it served a burial, agricultural, or entirely different function remains genuinely open. The description was first published by J. Cuppage in the 1986 Corca Dhuibhne archaeological survey of the Dingle Peninsula.

What is visible today is, by any measure, fragmentary. But the fact that peat removal has exposed the original ground surface means the relationship between the chamber and the field wall can be read almost as it was left, a small, puzzling arrangement of stones that predates the bog and outlasted it.