The Starter Farm

Sunday Morning in Amsterdam

There’s a softness in the morning that permeates the city as if a warm blanket is wrapped around you.  The city is quiet as if the citizens have some unwritten agreement to tip toe around as silently as possible.  Breathing Sunday morning air that seems laced with bergamot happily shocks the system that only hours earlier strolling through the red light district was filled with thick plumbs of marijuana smoke.  I’ve learned that on Mondays the canals are flushed and... [Read More]