Not that I really know what Bach intended for his Chaconne, but for some reason for me it's always been a lament about mortality. Bach's Chaconne conjures images of an old cathedral, a solemn funeral, gloomy skies and the cemetary at Salzburg that I visited on a cold and rainy summer day that had so many old tombstones and brilliantly colourful flowers.
Today's a rainy day as well, and I'm vegging in my mum's room with the huge windows and looking out at tree branches swaying in the breeze, grey skies, and a half-hearted drizzle. Perfect Chaconne weather.
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