The first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map recorded it clearly enough: an oval earthwork, crossed by a trackway, sitting slightly raised above the surrounding terrain. By the time the third edition was published in 1933, the cartographers could still trace an oval area roughly 65 metres by 50 metres. Today, no visible surface trace survives at all.

Enclosures of this kind are among the most common yet least understood features of the Irish archaeological landscape. The term covers a wide range of structures, from early medieval ringforts used as farmsteads to prehistoric ceremonial sites, and without excavation it is rarely possible to say which category a given example belongs to. What the maps preserve, then, is not just a shape but a moment in a slow disappearance: the first edition captures something recognisable, the third edition catches it mid-erasure, and the ground itself has since closed over entirely. The fact that another enclosure sits approximately 100 metres to the north-east adds a quiet complexity. Paired or clustered enclosures sometimes indicate related settlement activity, though whether these two were ever contemporary with each other is unknown.

There is nothing to see at the site itself, which is part of what makes it worth thinking about. The hillock is still there, still slightly proud of the low-lying fields around it, and that modest elevation is probably why the site was chosen in the first place, whether for drainage, visibility, or some combination of both. The landscape has not changed so dramatically that the original logic of the location is hard to read. The enclosure, though, has gone back entirely into the earth.