Over it sits a modest drystone shrine, no larger than you might expect to find at a roadside, carrying wooden crosses and scattered coins left by those who have passed and paused. Nearby, six small cairns, each roughly half a metre high, sit on boulders and are understood to be penitential stations, the kind of stopping points used in a pattern, the traditional Irish devotional circuit in which prayers are said at fixed markers, often involving bare feet and repeated rounds.

The site is known locally by two Irish names: Tobar na gCreigeán and An Tobar Beannaithe, both pointing to the presence of a holy well in the vicinity. What gives the place a particular edge is a detail recorded by the cartographer and writer Tim Robinson: there used to be more cairns than the six that survive, but a priest destroyed several of them within living or near-living memory, apparently a generation or two before the early 1990s when the inventory was compiled. The reason behind that act of removal is not recorded, though priestly unease about patterns and penitential folk practices was not unusual in twentieth-century Ireland, where the official Church sometimes moved to suppress devotions it considered insufficiently orthodox or simply too difficult to supervise. What remains, then, is a partial picture of something that was once more elaborate.