Colour botanical tattoo of a pink cherry blossom branch with green leaves and falling petals on a woman's upper back near the shoulder blade.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cherry blossom branch on upper back

Botanical · Back · Colour · Photo

A branch of pink cherry blossom flowers with green leaves and thin brown stems sweeps diagonally across the upper back, with small petals drifting downward below it. The linework is soft and fine, and the petals are shaded with light and dark pink tones to suggest depth. The tattoo sits against a plain, lightly lit background of skin and a black strappy top, with the subject's face out of frame.

Botanical Back Cherry blossom Flower Branch Petal Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the fire's gone to a sulk and I'm not shouting over the owls. Right. You want the cherry tree at the forest's edge, the one past Harrow Lane where the path gives up. My grandmother said it came up through ground nobody would name, and that every spring it dropped its blossom on the same side of the road, as if something under there was still trying to get home.

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Tamsin Vell kept the lane gate. She was nine that April, and she had a habit of climbing things she'd been told to leave alone. One morning a branch came down across the track, heavy with flowers, and she dragged it to the gate post and sat astride it like a pony. A carter came by, cursed the mess, and asked what she thought she was doing. 'Keeping the petals,' she said, 'so they don't blow into the wrong village.'

The carter laughed and went on to market. Tamsin did not. For three weeks she gathered every pink petal that fell on her side of the lane and tucked them into a tin under her bed. Her father found the tin, tipped it onto the kitchen table and watched them curl on the wood like little tongues. He said nothing. He went out, cut a fresh branch himself, and carried it up the lane to the tree, and he didn't come back for supper until the moon was up.

And that's why the blossom falls the way it does, see, slanting across the lane as though someone has scattered it on purpose. Now. Bed. No, I'll not tell you what he said to the tree. Some things belong to the tree.