Summers in New England are broken into three time periods that have nothing to do with the calendar. The first is the time between Memorial Day and the last week in July. This is “new summer”. Everything is fresh and new in the gardens. People get the first rush of smelling freshly mowed lawns, and burgers over charcoal grills. There are the parades and fireworks of two patriotic holidays, and everyone is planning their time at the beach or the mountains. The last period is between Labor Day and the first of October. The swamp maples are already crimson, and the sun is dipping below the horizon almost as soon as dinner is over. Cottages on the lakes are packed away for another season, and we are thinking about pumpkins and mums, Halloween and beyond. The time in between – from the very end of July to Labor Day is what my sister and I have come to know as the fifth season. It is the pause button on summer when subtle transitions take place. The air changes. The light at the end of the day becomes shorter. There are still hot days, but more often followed by cooler evenings. The nurseries transition to autumn fare, and any summer flower baskets look scraggly despite efforts to keep them fresh. Late afternoons are punctuated by the sound of crickets and cicadas. In the last couple of days I have seen some changes that the fifth season is nearing. Yes, it is still hot and muggy. The nights are still uncomfortable for sleeping. But the light at the end of the day has changed. I noticed last evening that it was completely dark at the time the sun was setting a month ago. August will bring more of the same. Each part of summer holds its own beauty, but I think I like the fifth season best. It’s a reminder of the colder, shorter days ahead, but also a reminder to pause and fully enjoy the bounty and beauty of what is still summer in its prime.