Black silhouette tattoo design of a dandelion seed head on a long stem, with seeds drifting into a trail of butterflies on a white background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dandelion seeds turning into butterflies

Botanical · Black and grey · Flash

A black silhouette drawing of a dandelion seed head on a thin curved stem, with individual seeds lifting away from it. The seeds gradually become a loose trail of small butterflies rising diagonally up to the top right corner. The image is solid black on white with no shading or colour, and the composition sweeps from the lower left to the upper right.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dandelion clock had gone over on the lock-side wall at Abingdon, and Nell Partridge stood on the Marigold's foredeck with her hands in her coat pockets, watching the wind pick it apart. Sid had told her a clock blown indoors brings rain into the cabin, so she had carried it out cupped in her palm and let the breeze take it.

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Each seed carried a wish, her mother used to say, and Nell had one ready. Her brother Tom had gone down to Antwerp on a grain barge in March and not written since. She did not say his name aloud. She only thought it hard at the seeds as they lifted off the bow and drifted over the brown water toward the willows. Halfway across the lock cut, the seeds began to change. Each pale tuft darkened, folded in on itself, and became a butterfly, small and black as a pressed leaf, and the whole loose flock climbed the air in a long diagonal line toward the lock house roof.

Sid came up from the engine hatch wiping his hands on a rag. He stopped beside her and said nothing for a while, then tipped his head at the wheelhouse window. Nell went in. Pinned beneath the tide table, where the damp had curled it, was a postcard of a shipyard in Antwerp, the stamp still soft at one corner. In Tom's careless capitals it said only: LOCKS ARE EASY. TELL SID I'M STILL ALIVE. Outside, the last of the butterflies vanished over the poplars.

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