This one, in the flat pastureland of Glenogra in County Limerick, is notable largely for its refusal to be seen. A circular enclosure of around 22 metres in external diameter, it sits roughly 940 metres east of the Camoge River and just 70 metres north of the townland boundary with Coolfune. It does not appear on historic Ordnance Survey Ireland maps. Aerial photography taken between 2005 and 2012 does not show it. Google Earth imagery from 2006 and again from 2018 shows nothing where it should be. It is, in the bureaucratic language of the archaeological record, a site that exists primarily because someone happened to fly over it at the right moment.

That moment came in 1986, during the Bruff aerial photographic survey, when the enclosure was captured in a single image, catalogue reference AP 4/3598, labelled Bruff 63. Circular enclosures of this kind are a common enough feature of the Irish landscape; they are typically the remains of ringforts, known in Irish as raths or lios, which served as enclosed farmsteads during the early medieval period, roughly between the fifth and twelfth centuries. A bank and ditch would have defined the boundary, protecting a household and its animals. At roughly 22 metres across, this is a modest example. A second enclosure, separately recorded, lies about 100 metres to the southeast, which hints that this corner of Limerick may have once supported a small cluster of such settlements. Whether the 1986 photograph catches a crop mark, a soil shadow, or something more structurally present is not entirely clear; a Digital Globe image taken between 2011 and 2013 may show the site faintly, though even that is uncertain. The record was compiled by Edmond O'Donovan and uploaded in October 2020.

For anyone curious enough to look, the site lies in the northwest corner of an open field, with gates recorded to the south and east. There is nothing to see at ground level in any image taken since 1986, and very likely nothing obvious on the ground itself. The surrounding terrain is flat agricultural pasture, unremarkable to the eye. What makes a visit, or even a study of the aerial record, worthwhile is precisely this quality of near-invisibility: the enclosure exists at the edge of the detectable, known only because one aerial survey, on one particular day, caught conditions that no satellite or later flight has since repeated.