You wake up in the morning, look out the window, and see the city transformed. What was a gray, stony thing is sparkling and white. Fat, fluffy flakes fall. Bare branches glitter like something in a confectioner’s window, or an old Currier and Ives print, or your favorite scene from “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” Your breath catches and your heart skips. You race to the computer and find your friends similarly enthralled. This being March, it might be the last snow of the year. You have a yen to be outdoors in it, to lie on your back and let the white stuff come down on you, to pack it between your palms, to feel it crunch underfoot, to feel like a kid again. To drink a steaming cup of hot chocolate (or black coffee, or Earl Grey tea with milk) and feel it warm you inside after an exhilarating moment in the freezing outdoors.

You want a snow day.

And by god, you take one.

Thank you, New York City, for being so glorious sometimes. Yes, today it’s all going to be slush. But yesterday it was nothing but joy.