Black dandelion tattoo with drifting seeds on the inner forearm near the wrist, shown in a black and white photo.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dandelion seeds blowing across a wrist

Botanical · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black ink dandelion with a long stem curves up the inner forearm, and small seeds drift away from its head towards the hand. The linework is bold and solid with some fine detail in the seed heads, shaded in black only. The image is a close, slightly angled photograph on a dark background, with a pale raised mark on the skin below the tattoo.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Hold your tongue and watch the rail, because this is the part where the wind takes a hand. The lad was called Tobias Quill, and he had sailed out of Falmouth with nothing in his sea-chest but a clean shirt and a tin of his mother's barley sugar. The first week the sea lay flat as a pewter plate, and he sat on the bowsprit with a dandelion head he'd pulled from the cracks of the harbour wall, counting its seeds the way a miser counts coins.

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On the forty-first day, when the Bay of Biscay had us by the throat, the mate came to him with a face like a cracked jug. The captain had lost his almanac over the side and nobody knew which way the land lay. Tobias went up the ratlines in the grey dawn, holding that bare stalk above his head. He opened his mouth and blew, the way his gran had taught him, and the last few seeds peeled off and streamed east, thin as thread.

Every man aboard swore afterwards that they flew straight as a rule over the swell, and that the captain, who trusted nothing but charts, put the helm over and followed them. Three hours later the gulls thickened, and by dusk the smell of peat smoke came off the water. Tobias came down with salt in his eyebrows and nothing left in his hand but the stem.

So if ever you sail past the Lizard, mind the seeds on the wind, and don't you be the one who blows them all away at once.

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