What Rachmaninoff has to do with Fall

I may not know much about "classical" music - romantic, baroque, or otherwise - but I do know what effect Rachmaninoff has on the autumn psyche. And by autumn psyche I mean the particular movement in the mind when fall begins to overtake the natural elements that surround the body: coolness in the air, tinges of rust on all deciduous plant life, the quieting down that is the antithesis of spring.

As I listen to Rachmaninoff's Concerto No. 2 in C minor for Piano and Orchestra, there is a palpable longing, perhaps a touch of sadness in the harmonies, and an intoxicating enchantment in the melody. If not prone to imagine the romance of a concert hall, you might instead imagine stretching fields of harvest tide, blown by a chilly wind that whips the crop remnants into circles (during the first movement - Moderato). Then in the second movement (Adagio sostenuto), the leaves turn crisp and brown, and the last of them waft their way to lie on the dormant grass.

The third and final movement (Allegro scherzando) arrives with a rush, as if the forest animals are scurrying to gather enough food to last through winter. As if making a stand at the last stretch of a long and weather-beaten journey, the concerto brandishes its bold but fading colors and dies triumphantly on the sword of winter.