The positioning is deliberate enough to notice. Whoever raised this mound, at whatever point in the past, chose the most commanding spot available, a place where the steep natural flanks of the ridge drop away sharply on either side and the surrounding landscape opens out in every direction.

The mound itself is modest in scale: roughly circular, measuring about 4.4 metres north to south and 3.2 metres east to west, and rising somewhere between 0.45 and 0.7 metres above the ground. Its top is noticeably flat, around 1.7 metres across, which distinguishes it from a purely natural swelling in the terrain. On its north-west to south-east axis, the sides of the mound blend into the steep slope of the esker beneath it, making it difficult in places to say exactly where geology ends and human construction begins. That ambiguity is part of what makes the site quietly interesting. The esker's spine is narrow enough that the mound occupies almost its entire width, sitting on the ridge like something placed there with care rather than convenience.

The site lies in pasture, so the ground around it is likely grazed and relatively open. The esker itself runs in a sinuous north-east to south-west line, and following its spine would give a sense of just how exposed and visible the mound's position really is. It is the kind of small earthwork that is easy to walk past without registering what it is, but once you are standing on the ridge and looking out at the Mayo landscape spreading away below, the logic of the location becomes immediately clear.