A Red That Does Not Back Down
The plateau holds its colour in every weather.
Red earth, red wool, red diamonds set in rows.
She tied them tight,
the way her people held the pass.
The Zaïan plateau above Khenifra is red earth and short grass and weather that comes without warning, and the people who live on it are the ones who, in the autumn of 1914, decided they would not be moved. Their rugs have that in them. Where the Beni M'Guild next door go soft and purple, the Zayan go red and hard, with diamonds set in rows like something built rather than drawn. This one is a good example: nearly nineteen kilos, two and a half centimetres deep, a red that has not negotiated with anyone in forty years.
The pile is dense and has worn evenly, and the red has deepened rather than faded, which is what madder does when it is well fixed and well used. It is a rug with a spine. In a room with dark timber and white walls it will hold the floor the way the plateau holds its colour, and everything else in the room will arrange itself around it.
Handwoven rugs grow in beauty, memory, and value with every passing year.