Black and grey crescent moon tattoo with floral, leaf and dotwork detail on the outer ankle, with parts of other tattoos visible at the edges.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Crescent moon with floral ornament on an ankle

Botanical · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A crescent moon filled with stylised flowers, leaves, swirls and dots, with short drop details hanging along the inner curve. The linework is fine and the petals are shaded in grey with solid black accents. The tattoo sits on an ankle against pale skin, and parts of other tattoos are visible at the edges of the frame.

Botanical Dotwork Ankle Moon Crescent Flower Leaves Swirl Dot Drop

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The moon had gone thin over Porthkennan by the time Nell reached the last corner of the net, and the cork line was still crooked. She pulled the twine tight with her teeth, the way her grandmother had, and felt the knot bite. Down on the slipway the fleet was loading ice and bait in the half-light, boots ringing on the stones, and someone's radio was playing a dance tune too loud for the hour.

Keep reading

Her father's boat, the Ellen Mary, had not come in with the others. Her mother had stood at the harbour wall since four, a flask going cold in her hands, counting the lamps that bobbed out past the Gull. Nell had brought the net up to the loft to keep her hands busy. Every mesh she closed was a small thing she could finish. Her grandmother had called the border pattern the moon's lace: flowers pricked in along the curve, and a lead drop hung from every third loop so the net would sink true and not curl. Nobody in the village remembered why the drops mattered, only that they did.

A diesel engine coughed somewhere beyond the wall. Nell stood, knocked the dust from her apron and went down the steps with the net over her shoulder. Her mother saw her coming and said nothing, only lifted the flask and poured. Out past the breakwater a single light swung, stopped, swung again, and then the Ellen Mary's bow came round the rock, low in the water with a full hold.

Tom threw the rope up before the boat touched. 'Took the long way,' he said, salt crusting his moustache, and nodded at the net. 'Mend it right?' Nell held up the last corner, its flowers a little uneven, and watched the lead drops swing in the lamplight. 'Every third one,' she said. 'So it sinks true.'