Botanical vine down calf, ankle and foot
Botanical · Calf · Black and grey · Photo
A fine black vine with curling tendrils, pointed leaves and flower buds climbs up the calf, wraps around the ankle and continues across the top of the foot. The linework is detailed and mostly solid black, with some leaves shaded in fine hatching for depth. The image is a two-panel photo in black and grey on a dark background, and the design fills the frame with a sense of movement.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Pell had been told the vine would die in the cold, so he kept it under his own bunk, wrapped in wet flannel and turned a quarter every morning as the Halcyon Grace rolled south of the Cape. The case was a box of glass and copper that smelled of tar and damp soil. Nobody aboard cared for it except him and the cook, who saved him the warm water from the boiler.
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By the third week the tendrils had found the bars of the case and begun to curl around them, feeling their way like a cat's paw testing a sill. Pell measured them each evening with a pin. They grew a finger's width a day in the trade wind. He wrote the lengths in a ledger beside the price of tea and the names of men who had gone over the side in the Bay of Biscay, and he found he was more careful with the first column than the second.
Near the Equator a fever took the second mate, and the captain ordered the glass case lashed to the rail to make room below. Pell argued, and lost, and sat up with it through a night of squalls. At dawn the vine had put out a bud as pale as a fingernail, folded tight as a fist, and it had wound itself twice round the copper strut as if holding on.
They reached the Thames in October with the case still intact. The botanist who met them at the wharf lifted the lid, looked at the bud, and said nothing for a long while. Pell pressed his palms to his trousers and waited for the verdict. It came quietly. "It wants a wall," the man said. "Something to climb."
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