When Autumn Develops an Anti-Social Attitude
I have come to the conclusion that autumn has developed a serious anti-social attitude. It has apparently decided that showing up for work is optional, responding to invitations is beneath its dignity, and communicating its intentions is somebody else’s problem.
We had one day. One. Where morning temperatures dropped into single digits, giving me a brief moment of hope that autumn had finally decided to make an appearance. Naturally, by lunchtime, temperatures were back to late-summer levels, and whatever seasonal progress we had made was promptly revoked.
I have been wanting to unpack my winter clothes for weeks. They are currently vacuum-sealed and stored away, having been retired earlier in the year when the weather finally warmed up. Yet here I am, contemplating whether it is worth opening those bags when I might have to pack everything away again in a few days. My winter blankets are still waiting in storage, too, because it simply isn’t cold enough to justify bringing them out. I am still sleeping with the bedroom window open, which should tell you something about the state of affairs.
Last year, by this time, I was already stocking up on pellets and firewood in preparation for the colder months. This year? I still have the damn electric fan running on most days. Sleeveless dresses remain a perfectly reasonable wardrobe choice, although I have started adding a cardigan for the cooler mornings and evenings. That is not winter dressing. That is summer negotiating a temporary ceasefire with autumn.
I have become so desperate for the real autumn to begin that I have resorted to consoling myself by digging through my photographic archives and editing some autumn photographs. If Mother Nature refuses to deliver the season, apparently I shall have to manufacture my own, one photograph at a time.
Honestly, I have no idea what is going on with the weather anymore.
El Niño or W.A.S.S.?
Is it the El Niño effect? Well, yes, El Niño is very much a real phenomenon this year. According to Portugal’s Institute for the Sea and the Atmosphere (IPMA), the current El Niño event has been intensifying, with forecasts pointing towards a strong or very strong episode continuing into early 2027. However, there is an important distinction: IPMA cautions that El Niño’s effects on Portugal are not direct or statistically significant, so we cannot simply blame every meteorological oddity on it. The institute’s latest seasonal outlook, covering November 2026 to January 2027, forecasts above-average temperatures across mainland Portugal, with monthly temperatures around 1–1.5°C above the reference average. It also projects above-average rainfall across much of the country over the three-month period, although the expected increase varies by month and region. In other words, warmer-than-average conditions are on the cards, and some wetter weather may be coming, but nobody is promising that autumn will suddenly start behaving itself.
Naturally, the forecast is only part of the story. The promise of rain appears almost every week, raising hopes among those of us who would quite like some actual precipitation. Then, just as quickly, the rain disappears from the forecast the following day, leaving us wondering whether we imagined the whole thing.
Meanwhile, the seasons seem to have abandoned the concept of taking turns. We can go from a warm, sunny morning to a blustery afternoon, throw in a sudden shower, and finish the day wondering whether somebody has secretly moved us to another climate zone. Occasionally, all four seasons arrive for breakfast, lunch and dinner, each demanding its own menu and refusing to coordinate with the others.
Which brings me to the new words we have invented to describe this increasingly familiar meteorological phenomenon.
The Germans have Frühwinterherbstsommer, a glorious linguistic construction combining Frühling (spring), Winter, Herbst (autumn) and Sommer (summer). It sounds like something a German civil servant might invent after spending three days trying to categorise a weather event that refuses to fit any of the existing boxes.
The Spanish-speaking corner of our imaginary weather bureau offers Invierpriveroño, a mash-up of invierno (winter), primavera (spring), verano (summer) and otoño (autumn). It is practically a seasonal tongue-twister, but at least it acknowledges that all four seasons have apparently decided to attend the same event.
The English version? Springterfallummer. Spring, winter, fall and summer, all crammed into one word that sounds as though the English language tripped down the stairs.
Three languages, one weather problem, and absolutely no seasonal supervision.
Perhaps this is simply the new normal. Perhaps autumn has become a seasonal freelancer, accepting the occasional assignment but refusing to commit to a regular schedule. Or perhaps Mother Nature has misplaced her calendar and is too embarrassed to admit it.
Whatever the explanation, I would appreciate a little clarity. I would like to unpack my winter clothes, retrieve my blankets, stock up on firewood and pellets, and put the electric fan away without worrying that I will need it again tomorrow.
Is that too much to ask?
Apparently, it is. Because somewhere out there, Autumn is ignoring my messages, Summer has overstayed its welcome, Winter is still waiting for its invitation, and Spring is probably already planning its next premature appearance.
So, I ask you: El Niño, or W.A.S.S. up with the weather?
At this point, I am not sure Mother Nature knows either.
