Colour tattoo of a crescent moon framing a lotus with pastel gradient shading, stars and dangling gem drops, on the side of the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Crescent moon and lotus with gem drops on the ribs

Botanical · Ribs · Colour · Photo

A crescent moon with a lotus flower at its centre, sitting within a starry gradient field. Bold black outlines define the shapes, and the shading shifts through purple, teal, pink and yellow, with small speckled highlights across the moon. Three drop-shaped pendants hang from the lower edge, and the image is framed on a light skin tone with grey fabric at the top right.

Botanical Geometric Ribs Crescent moon Lotus Star Sparkle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit nearer the grate, all of you, and mind the cat, because this is the one about Nell Parry and the moon that fell into Hollow Adit. You'll have heard it told wrong in the Miners' Arms, with the moon a silver penny and Nell a witch. Neither is true. The moon was no bigger than a wagon wheel, and Nell was the only one of us who could sing a seam into giving up its ore.

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The winter the water came up in the lower levels, the men wouldn't go down past the third ladder. They said the rock was singing wrong. Nell went down alone with a lamp, a tin of cold tea and a basket for her hands, and she came back up at dawn with grit in her hair and a stone in her fist. It was pale as skimmed milk, with a lotus pressed into its face, the petals open and the heart of it bluer than any sky over Carn Brea. Round its rim ran a crescent, like the new moon you see in February before the frost sets in.

She set it on the pit-head bench and the whole village came to look. Old Tregenza swore it would make the lamps burn cold. The chapel ladies said it should go to the Bishop. Nell said nothing. She turned it over and held it to the sun, and the light broke inside it into a thousand small sparks, purple and gold and that green you only find in still water. Then she hung it on a loop of wire from her kitchen rafters, where it still turns in the draught and throws its little stars across the ceiling every night.

Some say the moon wanted its stone back. I say the moon only wanted someone to notice it was lost.