Season of mists...

A thick autumnal mist in the Borders this morning.   This view is looking from the door of the church across the field towards the old smiddy.    (Blacksmith's forge and house.)

Margaret B (a fine sheep farmer, who is at the age when everyone of her contemporaries would be long retired) told me that the light brackets in the tiny church had been made by John Smith!    A fact that amused her.   That John Smith was the blacksmith of Lyne, and sadly died in a fire at the smiddy.    

Extra:   The light brackets made by John Smith.