Rather than the conventional shaft sunk straight into the earth, this well is funnel-shaped, its drystone-lined walls fanning outward as they rise, so that what opens at ground level to roughly three metres across narrows down to a base of little more than three-quarters of a metre, sitting one and a half metres below the surface. It came to light only when the landowner noticed a hollow in the rough pastureland and decided to investigate.

The well sits on a south-sloping terrace where limestone breaks through the ground in places, the kind of terrain common across the east Galway landscape where the underlying karst geology shapes not just the scenery but the practical business of finding water. Once the well was rediscovered, a roughly oval rubble wall was built around it, capped with cement and standing up to a metre high on the outside. Access is by a simple step-over style on the western side, and just inside it two rough stone steps descend into the narrow neck of the funnel, leading down to the water itself. The lining is randomly coursed drystone, a method in which stones are laid without strict horizontal courses, fitted as available, and here the work is competent enough to have held the structure together. Around fifteen metres to the north-north-east, traces of a relict field system are visible in the pasture, the low earthwork remains of older agricultural boundaries that suggest people worked and lived on this terrace long before the well dropped out of memory and back into the ground.