It sits on a shelf of scree and loose pavement, a rectangular drystone enclosure barely a metre wide inside, built from a mixture of flat-laid and vertically set slabs and blocks. At its south-western end, two courses of corbelling flags still project inward, the beginning of what was once a roofing method familiar from the beehive huts of the Atlantic seaboard, where stones are laid so each course overhangs the one below until the gap can be sealed at the top. That small, careful detail is what lifts this otherwise modest structure out of the ordinary.

When it was recorded in 1996, the structure was classified in the Record of Monuments and Places as a cleit, a term borrowed from the St Kilda archipelago off Scotland, where similar low drystone storehouses were used to dry and preserve seabirds, fish, and peat in the wind. The classification is telling, because the function here is more prosaic but equally practical: this was a turf stand, a place where cut peat could be stacked and left to dry before being carried down for fuel. The north-eastern end has been partially robbed out, its stones likely taken for other uses at some point, as happened with so many vernacular structures across the Burren. Immediately to the south-west of the structure lies a shallow hollow, roughly fourteen metres by five, filled now with rough grass and heather, which may mark the ground from which turf was once cut.