A Place Called Brookston

As you descend the hill, north / westbound on PA 948 into the village of Brookston, you'll see a sign and a tiny grassy lane that forms the rightward branch of a Y and goes back uphill.  A sign at the entrance to the grassy road says "Brookston Cemetery."  In all my years of living up there, I never once stopped by to see the place.

And honestly, there's not much to see.  A few of the headstones are scrawled out in sad, makeshift style and made of regular old fieldstone--especially in the end of the cemetery where mostly children seem to be buried.

I think some of them are in Polish, too.  The majority date back to the early 1900s.

Stones in a grassy field, dates, names, moldering bones down below.  

The Twin Lakes Trail seems to be better maintained than it was when I lived up North.  Because it runs through the very industrialized southern end of the ANF, the trail's course tended to become lost amid new gas wells, gas roads, and clear-cuts.  

The only overlook along the 18-mile expanse of the Twin Lakes Trail is found on the hillsides just above Brookston.  And, well, it's rather a modest view.  

Someone seems to be a repeat customer at this spot, though.  Even if the view's not for much, at least there's a nicely-dug fire ring, a swing, and a neat little stack of firewood.