On a north-west-facing slope in open pastureland, the site leaves no visible mark on the surface today. What makes it quietly interesting is precisely this absence, and the paper trail that preserves its outline in spite of it.

When the Ordnance Survey produced its six-inch map in 1838, the enclosure was still legible enough to be recorded as a subcircular form, measuring roughly 31 metres north-west to south-east and about 26 metres north-east to south-west. By the time a more detailed survey was carried out between 1912 and 1916 for the OS 1:2500 plan, only a curving line of hachures, running from roughly south to west, remained to suggest where the structure had once stood. Hachures on maps of this kind indicate a slight rise or scarp in the ground, the faintest topographical memory of a wall or bank that had largely been absorbed into the field. Somewhere between the mid-nineteenth century and the early twentieth, the cashel crossed from a legible ruin into something that could only be gestured at cartographically. After that, even the gesture disappeared.