The crisp summer breeze warmed my face as I stepped out of the house and onto the front porch. Feeling the worn and cracked wood beneath my feet gave me the confidence that I needed for the day. It smelled of late blooms and harvest time and I inhaled it all in deeply, reveling in how I could feel the late summer day sink all the way down into my toes.

I reached back into the house with a practiced hand to grab my floppy hat to shield my eyes from the brightness of the day. I counted all four of my steps down to the ground and paused to squish my toes in the warm grass. I loved the feeling of the dirt in my toes. I grabbed my stick that I usually stashed on the porch and reached out to run it along the fence line on my way to the orchard.

I kept track of the skipping of my stick, but only out of habit. I had made this walk far too many times to not know it by heart. Birds sang me a happy tune and I smiled to myself, pleased that not all had begun to fly south and that some still could sing to me. I stopped right before where I knew the end of the fence would be and leaned my stick delicately across the gate before I hopped over. Once on the other side, I made my trip through the orchard to my favorite tree.

I tuned out the birds and the wind and focused on counting my steps and making the right turns, Mamma would not be happy if I got lost again. I knew that after my third right turn, I had twenty-two steps until I reached my tree and I counted them all with care. I felt along the lowest branch until my hand came across something smooth. I closed my hand around the apple and tugged gently to release it.

I inspected the apple closely feeling it out for worm holes just like Mamma taught me and then I brought it to my lips and bit down hard. I smiled as warm juice dripped down my face and dribbled off my chin. The apple was juicy and ripe just the way I liked them. I finished the apple until I could taste the seeds and tossed it away far enough that I wouldn't step on it later. I then lay down under my tree and enjoyed the warmth that the day offered. Soon, I heard footsteps approaching me and I waited for them to announce themselves.

"Hey Princess, what are you doing out here alone? You know your mother will have a cow if she finds you out here."

I recognize my father's deep and rich voice and his choice nickname for me and I am thankful indeed that it was not my mother, "I'm just enjoying the summer day Daddy, don't worry, I will come back in a bit."

I hear my father's belly chuckle and I know that he will let me be. His footsteps become softer and softer as he draws away from me and I go back to enjoying the day.

Soon enough, I can tell that the air is getting cooler and I know that I must head back in, like I promised. I carefully retrace my steps back to the fence and pick up my stick from where I left it and make my way back along the fence to my porch. I count the steps up to the landing. Right before I go inside however, I turn back to the day. I soak up every detail and strain all my senses of the day, that is, all but one. I can hear the door open and shut behind me and my father's clunky boot steps walk up beside me.

"What did today look like daddy?" I ask gently, "Was the grass green and the sky blue? Were the apples red and the trees brown?"

"Well, you saw it didn't you? Think, did the grass feel crisp today? Was the day bright and the apples ripe?" He counters.

He sounds a little sad that I asked about the colors again and I think that he sometimes regrets telling me about them; he thinks that they make me sad. But I search my mind and remember the day through my eyes. I remember how crisply the grass crunched under my bare toes and the way the warm breeze felt in my lungs. I remembered the ripeness of the apple and how the brightness of the day glared in my pale grey eyes.

I tried my hardest to transform these other senses into the one that I lacked. I cast a final look out over my world and remember all of these, and in those short few moments, I swear I can see my own version of the world portrayed through my eyes.