Small fine line daisy tattoo with a yellow centre and green stem and bud, placed on the side of an ankle.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Daisy with bud on an ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Mixed · Photo

A small daisy sits on the side of an ankle, with a black outlined bloom of white petals around a yellow centre. A slender green stem curves down from the flower and ends in a tiny yellow bud on a short side stalk. The linework is fine and the colour is limited to yellow and green against the pale skin, with a plain light background.

Fine line Botanical Ankle Daisy Flower Bud Stem Leaf

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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 big top had sagged in the middle since March, so Mrs Pell tied a length of rope from the centre pole to the ticket booth and told the crowd it was meant to dip. Nobody in the Dunmore Brothers Travelling Circus believed her, least of all Juno the elephant, who had stopped bothering with the sawdust sometime in the autumn and now stood by the water tank swaying like a pendulum that had forgotten what it was for.

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I was the one who swept, which meant I was the one who found things. That spring it was a daisy, growing out of a crack in the ring where the boards had rotted through. It was no bigger than my thumbnail, with a yellow button for a middle and a bud hanging off the side of its stalk like a question nobody had got round to answering. I pulled off a petal and said the words the way my nan taught me, he loves me, he loves me not, and got the last one on a good day. The wages were three weeks behind, but the flower did not know that.

We played the last show to thirty-one people. I counted them from the wings. Afterwards, a boy in a red anorak came up to the booth and asked what the jam jar was doing on the table. I told him it was the only thing in the show still growing. He thought about that for a long time, then bought a ticket for next year, which I took as a kindness and wrote down anyway.

Mrs Pell pulled up the tent pegs that night. I carried the jar to the lorry on my lap, the bud still shut tight, and watched the field slide past the back window until it was only a green smear and then nothing at all.