Black fine line botanical arc of leaves and flowers on the inner upper arm, with a small cross tattoo on the wrist above.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Botanical arc on the inner upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A raised arm shows a curved botanical design of leaves, sprigs and a flower head in black ink on the inner upper arm, drawn with fine, delicate linework. Light shading adds some depth to the petals and foliage, and a small cross sits on the wrist above. The plain white background keeps the focus on the skin and the design.

Fine line Botanical Upper arm Leaves Flower Foliage Cross

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ladder was still warm from the sun when Nell climbed it on the last Saturday of August, the Ribston Pippins hanging so low over the Hollins wall that windfalls had split open in the long grass. Her grandfather had planted the trees the year before the war, and every autumn since, somebody in the family had argued about whether the crooked old boughs should come down. Nell had always said no. She stood on the third rung, reached into the canopy and found the place where the bark had gone grey and soft.

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Uncle Tomas had taught her the graft at the kitchen table with a paring knife and a potato, a lesson she had thought was about apples. You cut a slant on the stock, cut a matching slant on the scion, and press the two green layers together so they cannot tell which is which. Then you bind it with raffia and wax and leave it alone. She had three scions wrapped in damp newspaper in her coat pocket, pale wands cut from a tree he had never let anyone prune, and she worked fast, because the evenings were drawing in and the sap would not wait for her.

By October the binding had gone slack, then tight again as the wood swelled. Nell went up with the scissors and found a single shoot where the join had held, curving out from the old limb in a loose half circle, its leaves already bronzed at the edges and a small pink bloom folded at the tip. It was not a Ribston at all. It was something the stock had kept in reserve, a second tree hidden under the first, and she stood on the ladder with the blades open and did not cut it.