When I was a little kid we lived in New Jersey where it snows a lot in the winter. When it did, my daddy would often take me to the local park where there would be a hill that was never there the rest of the year. Of course the hill was just a huge pile of snow that had been plowed there but I was too little to figure that out. We would go belly-whopping down it on my wooden sled with Daddy on top of me to protect me.
Just before my fifth birthday we moved to the San Francisco Bay Area and, to everyone's surprise, it snowed one day that winter. All the other kids in the neighborhood went out to play in it, but my mother wouldn't let me go out because I'd left my snow suit and boots behind when we moved. She was a San Francisco native and had never enjoyed the Eastern climate during the years she'd lived back there.
I spent most of my life in the Bay Area and every few years we might have a light sprinkling of snow, especially in the hills.
In 2005 my husband and I moved to the Sierra foothills and here we usually get at least one or two days of snow each Winter. That's just enough for me to enjoy without being a problem. Today has been one of those snow days and I've enjoyed watching it from my windows. But I'm glad I don't live where there are blizzards and heavy snowstorms most winters.