What makes it quietly compelling is not so much the drama of the drop as a single field boundary running across the broad neck of the promontory: straight in its general alignment, but with curving edges that sit uneasily with the tidy geometry of ordinary agricultural divisions. That slight irregularity is enough to raise a question that has not yet been answered.

The suspicion, noted by Casey in 2001, is that the boundary may preserve the line of a promontory fort. These are among the oldest categories of coastal enclosure in Ireland, created by cutting off a headland with one or more earthen or stone ramparts, effectively turning the cliffs and the sea into ready-made defences on the remaining sides. The technique was used across many centuries and by many different communities, which makes dating any individual example difficult without excavation. At Booley, the combination of the setting, the shape of the promontory, and the curious nature of that curving field boundary all point in the same direction, though the site has not been physically examined closely enough to confirm or rule out the interpretation. The surrounding landscape offers little cover for the ambiguity: this is open, low-lying ground given over to grassland and tillage, the kind of fertile coastal strip that would have attracted settlement precisely because it was productive and defensible at once.

Because the site has not been formally surveyed at ground level, the visible remains are best understood as a prompt for attention rather than a settled archaeological feature. The field boundary is the thing to look for, and the question it poses is whether what appears agricultural is actually something considerably older wearing a later disguise.