That is, in a sense, the whole point. Somewhere beneath a field in mid Cork, a small stone circle lies dismantled and buried, its component parts scattered or pressed further into the earth by a century of agricultural activity. The site exists now only in a single paragraph of mid-twentieth-century fieldwork, a description of something that was already disappearing when it was recorded.

What was there, before it was gone, appears to have been modest but distinctive. A local researcher named Broker, writing in 1937, noted six or seven smaller stones arranged in a rough circle roughly seven or eight feet in diameter, positioned just a couple of feet from a standing stone, known in Irish as a gallán, which itself stood two feet outside the perimeter of the ring. The stones of the circle were flat and slab-like, set so that roughly half their length was below ground and half above, in the manner typical of Cork's prehistoric multiple-stone circles. In 1915, a farmer named James Kelliher cleared them during ploughing. The gallán, recorded separately, presumably remained, though the circle itself left no surface trace that any subsequent survey could find. Whether Kelliher knew what he was removing is unrecorded; the stones were an obstacle, and the land had work to do.

The loss fits a pattern that repeats across the Irish countryside. Small ceremonial monuments, built during the Bronze Age and left untouched for millennia, became inconvenient in the era of mechanised farming. Lackdotia's circle was not exceptional in size or likely not in age, but Broker's description preserves enough detail to make its absence feel specific rather than abstract: six or seven flag-like stones, a circle you could cross in a few paces, a solitary standing stone keeping company just outside the ring.