Childhood in the Park (or Outside)

I was a very young girl, maybe age 6 or 7, and I remember it being a very beautiful day. The sun was up and it was one of those perfect summer days where it was bright and sunny but not too hot. My parents, numerous siblings, and I had all went to the apple orchard. The grass was a beautiful fresh, clean green. The grass was so green that it was amazingly bright in my eyes. I remember that there was a building there also but only slightly.
My family and I went to the orchard in our big, green family van and as soon as we got to the orchard, the kids rushed out in excitement. My siblings and I raced to see who could the farthest but running to nowhere in particular as my parents followed behind. There was something about picking your own ripe apples, as if you are treating yourself to a winning prize. As I chased after my sisters (the older kids were always first), I saw that the apple trees were to my left and I could see some of the juicy, red fruits that we would soon go pick. After my parents had purchased some soda to hydrate our thirsty mouths, we all climbed onto a hay tractor and sat in anticipation, waiting for our adventure in the maze of apple trees.
Riding on the hay tractor was one of the best parts at the apple orchard. Though it wasn't hot that day, I loved feeling the subtle breeze swimming through my hair. As I sipped on the can of coke, I anxiously turned my head from side to side as the endless trees of apples passed by.
When we finally reached our desired location to start our apple-picking, the children waited for our parents' permission to start. As soon as we each grabbed a wooden bucket to place our apples in, each sibling grabbed a partner, chose a tree, and started picking their own apples. I remember climbing trees to reach certain apples, picking some from the ground as they fell, and catching some apples thrown to me from my brother while he was on the tree.
At the end of the day of apple-picking, we had a few batches of apples and ate more than enough while we were picking. We went home that day drained from the demanding physical work of apple-picking but satisfied with the amount of apples we would bring home with us.