Close your eyes and place yourself beside the sea.

Point your face toward the sun.

See the shadows—the differences in light.

Now, put your hand across your face. See the partial light, the total darkness.

Imagine this is all you’ve ever known, and then you begin to hear the waves. You can hear them as they swell and then break into a foamy crash, the water touching dryer sand, clashing between crevices of broken shell.

Sounds become more intense—vibrations of your surroundings imperative as you touch, taste and hear the world.

You are visually impaired

At Christmas time, when trees and houses are dressed in colorful lights, your mother describes the details sharing what she sees. You draw your own conclusions. You see it the way it is explained, perfectly, and you smile. And on the night of the Fourth of July, your mother, again, describes what she sees, tells you the color and the size of each boom formed on the canvas of a blackened sky, and if it sparkled, how high it went and where it fell. And you see, in your mind, once again what she sees.

Your mother, Debra Wilson, watches you for the first time in the immenseness of the ocean on top of a yellow surfboard. The board is held by two instructors, Will Abraham and Jeff Berlin, who tell you when a wave is coming, that you’re doing good, and then when a solid wave comes they push you in front of it.

On your first day, you ride the waves on your belly. And just as you feel the wave’s strength has run out from under your board, you hear the voice of Will or Jeff. One of them catches you when you come to shore and takes you back out to catch another wave.

The smile cannot be rubbed from your face.

After two hours of salt and sand, Kylie Wilson, 13, rode her last wave of the day. Kylie, born prematurely, has R.O.P., or Retinopathy of Prematurity. She has no light perception whatsoever. She never has. But this does not bother Kylie.

"Her world is perfect because she knows no other world," her mother said. "While we see all of the things we don’t have or can’t do, she is so content with what she has. She only knows what she has experienced."

Abigail Dingler, 12, born with low vision and Cerebral Palsy, rode on a pink board with Jack Viorel, director of Ocean Cure, next to Kylie.

"It’s so fun and cool," Abigail said with confidence as she came out of the water to catch her breath. The look on her face said she’d done this before.

For two-hour sessions each day for a week, the Ocean Cure charity surf camp instructors took their students in and out of the surf starting on July 26.

Michael Turco, 7, can see up close but what’s far away, he can’t see at all.

"He doesn’t know that," his father, Mike Turco, said.

Michael set the precedent for the group within minutes. He was the first to ride a wave all the way to shore.

"Let’s go back in, mister," legally blind Dyan Ocampo, 10, said to another Ocean Cure director and his instructor, Kevin Murphy.

"I’m ready to go back out," said Trey Roach, 12, who traveled the farthest of all 12 visually impaired surf camp participants with his parents and sister, Melissa, from Winston-Salem.

Almost all of the instructors have been surfing their entire lives. Abraham, who’s been surfing for 11 years said, "This is what makes you glad you surf."

Sharing the sport and camaraderie with others seems to provide a backbone for the hobby that, for most surfers, is just for fun.

At the end of the first day, a surprise awaited the campers—cupcakes for all in celebration of instructor Billy Eppes’ birthday.

He has done this before. He remembered what it was like when he and the other instructors from Ocean Cure took visually impaired kids and adults, ages four to 23, out to surf. He remembers a photograph sent to them after the camp was over.

"Do you notice anything about this photo?" he asked another instructor.

In the photo, Billy and the other instructor are smiling at the camera while the student looks into the distance, not knowing which direction to turn.

"You realize they’re visually impaired," Billy said. "But when you get in the water, you don’t realize it."

For a moment, in the ocean, Billy forgets there is any difference between him and his student. He pushes her into the perfect wave. She stands. And she feels the world no differently than you or me.