Note: Device not to scale.
Where I live, seasons change. I know because my fingers and toes, my ears, my mouth and nose, all tell me so.
Neveah is blind, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy each of the four wondrous seasons of the year.
She knows it's winter when her boots go scruuunch in the snow and cold flakes land softly on her tongue.
She knows spring has come by the smell of hyacinths, the bzzzz of a bee in her ear.
Summer is a trip to the beach, where she can hear the crash of ocean waves and the keowww of seagulls overhead.
And when Neveah's rake goes scritch scratch over fallen leaves and the air turns brisk, she knows it's autumn. Soon the cycle of seasons will begin anew.
