It measures roughly 2.8 metres north to south and 2 metres east to west, its drystone walls, built without mortar in the dry-stone tradition of stacking and fitting field stones by hand, now collapsed but still visible as a low ridge protruding above the peat. Someone, at some point, cut the northern portion of the interior some 30 centimetres down into the upslope, levelling the floor against the angle of the hillside. A natural rock outcrop at the north-east corner was simply incorporated into the wall rather than worked around, the kind of pragmatic decision that speaks quietly to how the structure was built and by whom.

The hut does not sit alone. About 35 metres to the north-west lies another hut site, and some 40 metres to the south there is an enclosure, the kind of boundary feature often associated with small-scale pastoral or agricultural activity. A relict field wall survives roughly 80 metres to the north-east, a fragment of what was once a managed landscape now thoroughly reclaimed by heather and rough pasture. Together these features suggest a small cluster of activity on the western approaches to The Paps of Dana, the twin-peaked mountains above the Cork-Kerry border whose distinctive silhouette has drawn association with the goddess Anu, or Danu, since at least the medieval period. Whether the hut and its companions belong to the early medieval period, the post-medieval era of transhumance grazing, or some other phase of occupation, the notes do not say. What they do record is a place where the ground retains the outline of a life lived at elevation, in rough country, with whatever was immediately to hand.