By 1847, according to historical records kept by Fagan, this sacred site had already fallen into ruin. The graveyard wasn’t just any ordinary cemetery; it was apparently enclosed by imposing standing stones, creating a boundary between the world of the living and the dead. Over the years, those who worked the land made grim discoveries, unearthing human bones and stone coffins that spoke to the site’s long history as a place of burial.

Today, visitors searching for traces of this ancient graveyard will find little definitive evidence of its existence. The great standing stones that once marked its perimeter have vanished, though a short line of boulders in the area might represent the last vestiges of the original enclosure. The site occupies south-facing ground that slopes gently towards the sea, now covered in decent pasture land that gives little hint of its former purpose.

Just west of where the graveyard once stood, a curious reminder of the area’s ancient past can still be found: a rock basin carefully carved into a boulder, catalogued by archaeologists as DG097-013001. This enigmatic feature adds another layer of mystery to a landscape that has witnessed centuries, if not millennia, of human ritual and remembrance. The site forms part of Donegal’s rich archaeological heritage, documented in the comprehensive Archaeological Survey of County Donegal, which traces the county’s human story from the Mesolithic period through to the 17th century.