It is not ancient in any dramatic sense, nor particularly large, but it has been formally recorded as an archaeological feature, which says something about how ordinary rural life can leave marks persistent enough to warrant serious attention.

The mound measures thirteen metres north to south and four and a half metres east to west. On top of it sits a smaller rectangular platform, roughly seven and a half metres by two, enclosed by a low stone wall about half a metre thick and just over half a metre high. This arrangement is consistent with what is known in Irish as a turf láthair, the base or stand on which a turf rick would be built. A turf rick is essentially a stack of cut and drying peat, raised off the ground on such a platform to allow air to circulate beneath it and keep the fuel dry. The practice of cutting, stacking, and storing turf was central to rural domestic life across boggy parts of Ireland for centuries, and these stands were functional, unglamorous structures that rarely attracted notice once they fell out of use. Ó Nualláin recorded this particular example in 1984, noting the peaty composition of both the mound and the platform above it, in rough pasture on a ridge in Drombohilly.

What makes the location quietly strange is its proximity to the stone circle nearby. The two features belong to entirely different worlds of human activity, separated by millennia, yet they sit in the same field, on the same slope, looking out over the same bay. The turf stand is a record of subsistence and seasonal labour; the stone circle speaks to ritual and social organisation from the Bronze Age. The ridge that made one site useful for cutting and storing fuel apparently made it an attractive place long before that too.