Where’s the Winter, For Heaven’s Sake? — Enough Already With the Heat
There’s that moment — somewhere between yet another cold shower and a breakfast that feels like a sauna — where you ask yourself:
“Wait, maybe winter just sent a ‘can’t make it this year’ text to the weather and ducked out.”
It’s mid-November, right? That month when we’re supposed to hear the first creak of the heater, smell the first rain, see Israelis posting “lentil soup” photos with a filter of melancholy.
But nope — instead we get another week of 90 °F, another tank top soaked in despair, and that overall feeling of a country stuck on “light fry”.
A country on low flame (literally)
Israel in late 2025 feels like a toaster.
Doesn’t matter where you are — the center, the north, even Jerusalem — everywhere turned built-in oven.
And the most annoying part? The heat isn’t just physical. It’s psychological.
It’s not just that you’re sweating — it’s that you’re aware you’re sweating.
You step outside in the morning and feel the world evaporating around you, like a high-school physics experiment left on the counter.
And here’s the thing — we haven’t even started getting mad. We’ve accepted it.
Sweating? No biggie.
The sea looks like chicken soup? Sure.
Humidity at 87 %? Ah yes, “tropical air”.
We’re no longer quirky — we’re burnt-red, according to the national grid.
Where’s the winter we used to know, with the smell of kerosene?
Winter used to have an identity.
It would arrive quietly, with no warning, and boom — rain during the school field trip, flipped umbrellas, laundry that wouldn’t dry until Y2K.
Today?
What we have is a marketing campaign called “Winter 2025” showing up in the racks of Castro with sweaters you will never, ever wear.
Let’s be real: those sweaters are just there so you can sit in a mall AC and pretend you belong in Europe.
There’s something almost conspiratorial about it.
Someone up there (or in California) decided that seasons are over.
That we’re living in eternal summer, like in a travel ad for “Hawaii Resort Eilat”.
And so we look? We look like a whole country walking around with a water bottle, sunglasses, and zero faith in reality.
Winter as cultural memory
In winter we used to speak differently.
We’d talk romance in the rain: “Let’s stay in”, “Let’s make cocoa”, “Let’s watch a movie wrapped in a blanket”.
Today?
“Let’s stay in — the AC’s on 65°.”
It turned from dreamy to hassle.
The language changed too.
Once “I’m cold” was soft, maybe sensual.
Now it’s as rare as a yarmulke in July Jerusalem.
Even songs stopped writing about winter — when’s the last time you heard someone croon “rain, rain, fall from the sky”?
Now it’s “sunshine in my heart” and “heat on my hips” — thanks to the humidity, there’s no room for poetry anymore.
The Great Air-Conditioner Conspiracy
They say the heat is profitable.
For whom?
For the air-conditioner makers, naturally.
They’re not selling a product — they’re selling hope.
Think about it: you buy an AC to cool yourself, but you’re actually heating up the planet a little bit more.
And there we are, in an endless loop of heat and denial, burning electricity just to feel human.
And about electricity — it’s tiring being a citizen of a country where an AC is an ideology.
There’s “right”, “left”, and “on 18° or on 24°”.
The toughest debates in Israeli couples aren’t about kids or politics anymore — they’re about the AC remote.
In Conclusion (Without Sweating, Please)
So yes — where’s the winter?
Maybe it skipped off to Switzerland, maybe it’s stuck in a traffic jam in the Atlantic, or maybe it simply couldn’t handle the expectations anymore.
And us? We’ll keep complaining, sipping water, buying faux-winter coats, and opening the car door as if we’re stepping into a pizza oven.
Until then — if anyone sees winter, tell it Israel misses it.
Not because of the rain, not because of the sweaters —
Because of that moment when you hear the rain tap the window and can finally say:
“Lucky me, I can turn the AC off.”
הירשמו כדי לקבל את הפוסטים האחרונים אל המייל שלכם
