Shivering underneath my thick coat, I looked around in wonder as I stepped out of the car in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This was the first time I went up north, further than the southern border of Virginia. The icy cold wind biting at my face and the snow falling ever-so-delicately all around me was definitely a whole new experience. Being from California and typically used to temperatures above fifty degrees Fahrenheit, I found that I did not like the cold as much as I thought I would. But the little twelve year old me genuinely enjoyed the "real" snow that actually fell from the sky, compared to the fake snow that the people in Los Angeles would throw and pile onto the street during the winter. I remember playing in the snow for hours on end, ignoring the wetness in my shoes and the bright redness of my face. Although I ended up sick for the rest of my winter trip in Pennsylvania, I never forgot the experience of the first snow.