Full sleeve tattoo of realistic autumn maple leaves in orange, red and yellow shades, running from the shoulder down the upper arm and forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Autumn maple leaves full sleeve

Realism · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo covers the arm as a full sleeve, showing overlapping maple leaves and thin branches set against a blurred background of red and orange foliage. The leaves are rendered with soft shading, fine veining and highlights that give depth and a photographic quality. The palette moves from deep reds and browns near the shoulder to bright yellows and oranges on the forearm.

Realism Botanical Upper arm Forearm Maple leaves Autumn leaves Leaf Branch Foliage

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the step, there's a root under the lip of that hatch, and if you trip on it you'll be the one telling this story to the next lot. Right. Sit where the warm pipe runs. Now, you've all heard the Reach had a tree aboard, but you haven't heard what the tree did.

Keep reading

Tamsin Brack kept it in the ring garden, a maple no taller than her shoulder, grown from a seed that rode out in a tin crate older than the engines. Every shift she pruned it with a blade she'd sharpened on her own knee. Nobody thought it would live. It did, and in the eleventh year of the long dark, its leaves began to turn. Red first, down near the soil, then the ochre creeping up the stem like a fever up a child's arm.

The crew came in their thousands, ten at a time, to stand in that little ring and look. Some cried. Some ate their rations under it and pretended they weren't crying. Tamsin walked among them picking up the fallen leaves, flattening each one inside the ship's log, and she told anyone who'd listen that the tree was counting. One leaf for every turn of the ship around the old sun, she said, and when the last one fell we'd be near enough to home to smell it.

They're still in that log, pressed flat and brown as a biscuit. Go on, take one out, mind the edges. Feel how light it is. That's the whole of the Reach in your palm, a leaf that once thought it was the sun.