Occasionally what is happening behind the reed is just as interesting as what is happening in front of the reed. Or so it seems to me when I am weaving a draft with a regular threading repeat.
The heddles march in regular order and their arrangement echoes the shape of the threading. With the stretched warp acting as a floor, I see a suggestion of alcoves and columns, a strange architecture in miniature. There are vistas, corridors, open spaces and dark corners. A population of little people hides just beyond my field of vision.
Then it is time to start weaving again. The architecture flattens into a 2-D world. A map, perhaps.