No earthwork, no stone, no raised bank, nothing at all disturbs the surface of the tillage field where it lies. The only record of its existence is a circular cropmark, roughly thirty metres in diameter, captured in an aerial photograph taken in 1992. Cropmarks appear when buried features, ditches or banks long since levelled, affect how crops grow above them; a buried ditch retains more moisture and nutrients, so the crop overhead grows slightly taller or greener, and from altitude the ghost of the original structure becomes legible. At Tobersool, that ghost is a near-complete circle with a single opening in its east-north-east quadrant, the kind of entrance orientation commonly seen in early medieval enclosed settlements across Ireland.

When the photograph was taken in 1992, the area was still partly wooded. The 1937 Ordnance Survey edition recorded the location within a patch marked as Leechtown Wood, with Rath Wood noted close by, that second name perhaps hinting that local memory, or earlier surveyors, had some awareness of an enclosure in the vicinity. The record was compiled by archaeologist Geraldine Stout and later updated by Christine Baker. Since the aerial survey, the woodland has been cleared, the land brought into cultivation, and the M1 motorway was subsequently constructed nearby, changes that have collectively erased whatever slight traces may once have remained above the subsoil.

There is no practical way to visit this site in any conventional sense. The enclosure lies beneath a working agricultural field and is invisible at ground level. Its value is entirely as a mapped record of something that existed and has now been absorbed into the modern landscape. For anyone interested in aerial archaeology or the broader pattern of early enclosures in the greater Dublin area, the site appears in the national monuments record, and the 1992 photograph remains the primary evidence. The area around Tobersool, situated in low-lying ground north of Dublin, is otherwise unremarkable to the passing eye, which is precisely what makes the aerial image, and the vanished structure it briefly revealed, quietly affecting.