But the earlier 1842 map shows something quite different: a circle, roughly thirty metres across. The shape has not changed, of course; the land has simply been read differently across time, and the earthwork itself continues to sit quietly in a tillage field on a gentle south-eastward slope, doing neither one thing nor the other.

What survives on the ground is a roughly circular area, measuring about 27.6 metres north to south, defined by a low scarp on its north-east to south-west arc, a shallow fosse (a drainage ditch running around the base of the bank), and a wide outer bank that rises to 1.3 metres on its exterior face. The interior slopes downward to the south-east and is overgrown with deciduous trees; about six metres in from the north-west bank, the ground drops sharply by some four metres before levelling off again, a detail that suggests the enclosure has more internal complexity than its battered outline implies. Overgrowth obscures the south-west to west section of the circuit, where a field boundary has since been built across it, further complicating any reading of the original form. Enclosures of this type are generally understood as ringforts, the enclosed farmsteads of early medieval Ireland, built between roughly the sixth and twelfth centuries as a combination of domestic space and status marker. What makes Sallypark worth pausing over is not the enclosure alone but its company: a levelled ringfort lies about 210 metres to the west-north-west, and three further circular enclosures survive in adjoining fields to the north-north-east, north-east, and south-south-west. The clustering suggests this was once a settled, organised landscape, its individual features now stranded in separate fields.