It looks, at first glance, like any other grave marker, but the stonework gives it away: it is a window jamb, late medieval in date, repurposed from the church that once stood on this very site. The original building was dedicated to St Brigid, and what remains of it today is a rectangular earthen mound barely a metre high, enclosed within a later stone wall that has been heavily ribbon-pointed, a style of repointing that fills the joints with a proud, raised bead of mortar, more decorative than durable, and not universally approved of by conservationists.

The church had already fallen into ruin sometime between 1630 and 1650, according to the Fingal Historic Graves Project. By the time of the Civil Survey of 1654 to 1656, it was being recorded simply as the walls of an old church, suggesting that within a generation of its abandonment it had become little more than a landmark rather than a functioning building. The foundations of the medieval parish church can still be traced beneath the raised ground, aligned west-north-west to east-south-east, measuring roughly 14 metres in length and 8 to 9 metres in width. A survey carried out in 1992 recorded the remains as a low rectangular mound, though the site has since undergone what the records diplomatically describe as improvement: a grass ramp has been built into the south wall, there is a return in the north wall, and a stone-built alcove with a concrete roof has been added to the east wall, housing a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

The graveyard remains in use and the site is a quiet one, easy to overlook from the road. The enclosing wall stands between 0.75 and 1 metre high, and while the overall impression is of a tidied and managed space, the mound of the earlier church is still perceptible beneath the grass. The repurposed window jamb east of the church is worth finding; it is the most direct physical trace of the medieval structure, a piece of dressed limestone that has outlasted the building it once served, pressed into a second life among the dead.