Located out of frame, a group of teenagers were actively trying to start a bonfire with live wood. One gentleman who wreaked of Devil's Lettuce was hacking and slashing away at a Ghetto Palm, dragging the sap saturated branches into a fire pit, which smoldered only from the occasional dumping of dried leaves and litter found throughout the ruins. Internally I questioned their Pocono's education and was not surprised. Neither did I mind the smoke, for it filled the empty boiler works with a white smog which provided a creepy aura to a ruin I otherwise many not have even bothered photographing.