It is easy to walk past without registering what it is. The slightly raised interior, now smothered in overgrowth, measures approximately 34 metres north to south and 40 metres east to west, dimensions that suggest a moderately sized example of what the Irish call a rath, an enclosure defined by an earthen bank and an outer ditch rather than by stone walling.

The defining features are still legible on the ground, if not always tidy. The earthen bank, about 2.9 metres wide, stands roughly 70 centimetres above the interior and just over a metre above the ground outside. Along the western and northern sides, an external fosse, essentially a shallow encircling ditch, runs alongside it; a fosse of this kind was dug to provide material for the bank and to reinforce the sense of boundary. What complicates the picture is the way the site has been absorbed into the working landscape around it. The bank has been folded into the field boundary system on the eastern and western sides, so what was once a deliberate prehistoric enclosure now does double duty as a modern field edge. A depression running along the inner face of the bank on the western and northern sides adds another layer of topographic complexity, and a modern land drain has been cut into the outer base of the bank to the north-east, with the spoil from that work dumped inside the enclosure itself.

This is not unusual for ringforts across Ireland. Thousands survive in various states of incorporation into the agricultural grid, recognised as earthworks but pressed into service as convenient boundaries or drainage routes. What makes this one worth pausing over is simply the clarity with which the layers of use are written into the ground: the early medieval bank, the repurposed field edge, the drainage work of some more recent century, all sitting one on top of another on a quiet Kerry ridge.