The site is bounded by collapsed stone walls, now covered in grass and standing just half a metre high, though spreading between one and two and a half metres wide where they’ve tumbled over time. A deliberate entrance, a metre wide, opens on the western side, whilst other gaps in the walls appear to be more recent damage. The Ordnance Survey maps from the late 19th century mark this spot simply as ‘Burial Ground’, a understated label for what was likely a cillín, an unconsecrated cemetery typically used for unbaptised infants.

The interior of the enclosure remains level despite the stony ground, but one curious feature catches the eye in the southwest corner: an L-shaped arrangement of stones that, together with the enclosing wall, forms a neat four-metre square. Whether this served as a particular burial plot, a small memorial area, or had some other purpose remains unclear. Such children’s burial grounds are found throughout Ireland, often in marginal locations away from consecrated ground, reflecting historical attitudes towards unbaptised children who, according to Catholic doctrine of the time, could not be buried in churchyards.

This particular site exemplifies how these poignant places were often situated in liminal spaces; neither entirely wild nor fully domesticated, existing on the edges of communities much as the children buried there existed on the margins of religious acceptance. The Archaeological Survey of County Donegal, compiled in 1983, documents this and many other field monuments that tell the quieter stories of Ireland’s past, reminding us that not all history is found in grand castles or ancient monasteries, but also in these humble, grass-grown enclosures scattered across the countryside.