It is a small thing physically, a subcircular basin roughly a metre across, set into a natural scarp about 1.2 metres high and opening to the east, its walls lined and covered with stone. On top rests a small wooden cross. In front, two large flat slabs lie on the ground, and beside the well someone has left a cup and a set of rosary beads. These objects are not decorative; they are functional, placed there for use by whoever comes to make their rounds.

What gives this well an added layer of interest is its immediate neighbour. It sits on the north-eastern side of a fulacht fiadh, the Irish term for a type of prehistoric cooking site typically identified by a horseshoe-shaped mound of burnt and fire-cracked stone, usually found near a water source. These sites date broadly to the Bronze Age and are among the most common archaeological monuments in Ireland. Whether the proximity here is purely coincidental or reflects some long continuity of significance attached to this particular spot is impossible to say, but the juxtaposition is striking. Sacred water and ancient fire, separated by a few metres and several thousand years.

The well is still active in a devotional sense. Rounds, meaning a prescribed circuit of prayer made around the site, are observed on Trinity Sunday, the Sunday following Pentecost, which places the annual gathering in late May or early June depending on the year. The cup left beside the well is presumably there for those who wish to drink from it, which remains a central part of holy well tradition across Ireland. The rosary beads speak to continued Catholic practice layered onto what is likely a much older site of veneration.