It measures roughly 11.4 metres from west-southwest to east-northeast and 9.1 metres across, rising to a rounded conical peak of about 1.4 metres. That might not sound like much, but what distinguishes it from its surroundings is precisely how ordinary it refuses to look: while the riverbank nearby is strewn with loose, overgrown heaps of material dredged from the river over the years, this mound is compact, regular in shape, and covered in rough grass rather than scrub. It does not quite belong to either category, the modern spoil heap or the ancient earthwork, and that ambiguity is what makes it worth a second glance.

The mound sits at the northern edge of a ring-barrow, a type of prehistoric funerary monument consisting of a low central mound enclosed by a circular bank and ditch, and that proximity is what gives the uncertainty its edge. Surveyor Denis Power, who compiled the record uploaded in August 2011, noted that the mound is probably the result of drainage activity, a common enough intervention in low-lying Irish farmland liable to flooding. But he also acknowledged it could be an ancient feature associated with the ring-barrow beside it. The Maigue valley in this part of Connello Lower Barony has long been worked and rewrought by human hands, and the landscape carries layers of activity, agricultural, hydrological, and possibly ritual, that do not always separate cleanly from one another.

The ground here is rough pasture and rushes, the kind of terrain that can be waterlogged for much of the year, so a visit in drier summer months would make the going considerably easier. The mound itself is unenclosed and sits within what appears to be working farmland, so the usual courtesies apply. The ring-barrow immediately to the south is the officially recorded monument, but the mound to its north is the quieter puzzle. There is no signage and no formal access point; those who find it will do so by map and on foot, following the Maigue as it bends.