Black and grey sleeve tattoo on a man's arm, showing a bird in flight, a feather and flowers in a Botanical and Traditional style, running from the upper arm to the forearm.

Bird, feather and flower sleeve on an arm

Traditional · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a bird with outstretched wings near the upper arm, a large feather running down the forearm, and flowers and foliage filling the gaps. The linework is dark and defined, with soft grey shading on the feather and wings. The ink is almost entirely black and grey, and the arm is held in the foreground while a person in a light floral dress sits close behind.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The post road over Scar Gap had no inn for nine miles, so when the snow came early that October, Tomas Rhee left his mule at the cairn and went up on foot with a lantern and a loaf wrapped in cloth. He had promised his sister he would be back by dark. The wind laid the flame flat and he kept walking anyway, counting the marker stones the way his grandmother had taught him.

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A kestrel came down out of the cloud with its wings held wide and dropped a feather at his boots. It lay across the path and pointed uphill. The old people in the valley said the kestrel carried the mountain's messages, and that a man given a feather must follow it or pay for his refusal with years. Tomas followed it through the drifts, past a clump of late crocus pushing up through the snow, which had no business being there at that height, until the feather stood upright on the step of a shepherd's hut.

Inside, a boy of about ten lay on a heap of sacks with a leg that bent the wrong way below the knee. He had been crying for the bird to come back, he said, because the bird always knew the way down. Tomas set the bone as best he could, tore the bread for them both, and sat with the boy until the lantern guttered out and the grey light came up over the pass. They went down together, slowly, with the kestrel wheeling ahead of them and calling at every bend.

Every October after that, Tomas's sister pinned the feather to the wall above her stove and wrote the date beside it in ink on the plaster. The boy grew up to drive the post mule over the Gap, and the kestrel still came down to the cairn each autumn to look at the path, as though it were checking that the road had been kept.

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