Nothing marks the spot in Raheny today; a housing estate covers the ground, and nothing is visible at surface level. The mill exists now purely because a cartographer thought to record it, and because that record has outlasted the structure itself by more than two and a half centuries.

The evidence comes from John Rocque's 'Actual Survey of the County of Dublin', published in 1760, one of the most detailed and reliable maps of the period for the greater Dublin area. Rocque, a Huguenot-born cartographer who worked extensively in Britain and Ireland, marked the Raheny windmill on the south bank of a stream to the north of Raheny village. Windmills of this period were typically used for grinding grain, and their placement near watercourses was not unusual, since millers often worked both wind and water-powered equipment depending on seasonal conditions. Beyond Rocque's notation, the historical record for this particular structure appears to be silent; no name, no date of construction or demolition, no owner survives in the available notes.

For anyone curious enough to go looking, the site sits somewhere beneath a residential area north of the old village centre, in a part of Dublin that has been absorbed into the suburban fabric of the city. There is nothing to see in the conventional sense. What makes the exercise worthwhile is less about finding a physical trace and more about reading the modern streetscape against Rocque's map, and registering the gap between the two. The stream that once defined the mill's position may itself have been culverted or redirected over the intervening centuries. Geraldine Stout, who compiled the record, noted its invisibility plainly: not visible at ground level. That plainness is itself instructive. Many such industrial features were cleared without ceremony as Dublin expanded, leaving Rocque's survey as the sole witness to what once turned in the wind above the north bank of a Dublin stream.