Swarthmoor...

As I strolled into the Quaker meeting house at Swarthmoor, the man on greeting duties recognised me as “the photographer”. Then Bill Shaw, one-time custodian of Swarthmoor Hall, introduced me as “the camper van man”. “I always want to call you George”, said a woman I’d never met before. “So call me George”, I said. An hour of shared silence always leaves me in a more tranquil mood, accentuated by the spring-like sunshine…