Black fine line dandelion tattoo on a shoulder, with seeds drifting off across the upper back.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dandelion seeds drifting across a shoulder

Fine line · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A dandelion with a long stem and full seed head sits on the shoulder, with several seeds drifting off to the right. The linework is fine and the seed head is built from many small dark strokes, with the stem shaded in solid black. The photo shows the back of a person with dark hair, shot close with a warm tone and soft focus, and no face is visible.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the fire's fine, and mind the cat, she thinks she's a hearth stone. You asked me last winter why the old wood at the edge of Harrow Lea has no dandelions in it, and I told you the soil was wrong. That was a lie for children. The truth is the wood keeps them all.

Keep reading

Every dandelion clock that goes to seed on the common, the wind takes a count of it. Ask any miller. Ada Penrose kept the count for forty years, marking it in chalk on the inside of the mill door, one stroke for every seed that left a head and found a gap in the hedge. By the time she was old the strokes ran the length of the door.

Her grandson Tom was the impatient sort. One August morning he picked the finest clock on the bank, cupped it in both hands and tried to carry it home unbroken so he could keep one wish in a jar. Halfway down the lane the breath of his own running blew the whole head apart. Seeds lifted over the hedge like a crowd of small grey ships, and he stood crying in the ditch.

Ada came out with her chalk, looked at the sky, and drew one stroke. "That one's yours," she said. "The wind owes you a wish for every seed you lose. Now go and find out where it landed." He went looking for three summers and found it on the far side of the wood, rooted in a crack of stone beside a well. It had flowered there, yellow as a coin, and nobody had asked it for anything at all.

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