During the month of November, I love to listen to Carmina Burana. Every year.
This tradition has roots in my college days.
I had just moved off campus for the first time and was living in a duplex with another woman. (It was waaay out of our budget, but we managed.) I had a large glorious bedroom with a vaulted ceiling, and I placed my wooden desk (which I had painted a beautiful red in the garage) right by the window. I could climb out to the roof from that window, and often did.
But this fall, as the warmth from summer was painfully fading away, I had the window open to enjoy the fresh air for as long as I could. The breeze was alternatively warm and chilling, and the sky was overcast, a portent of the upcoming winter. I had played “Oh Fortuna” on various instruments in high school, and had the whole thing on CD, but this day, I decided to listen to it all.
Something about the day and the chill and the overcast points of the music all meshed for me, and I listened to it all month. Every year since then, in November, I listen to Carmina Burana. Won’t you join me?
I like this version, and I love that baritone.