Black fine line tattoo of a slender botanical sprig with five small open flowers and two leaves on the inner forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fine line flower sprig on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single thin stem rises diagonally across the forearm, branching into several small bell-shaped flowers with curled petal edges and a few small buds. Two curved leaves sit along the stem, drawn with delicate single-weight linework and no shading. The tattoo is in black ink on pale skin, set against a grey brick wall and a dark sleeve at the top of the frame.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Sprig Flower Stem Leaves Bud Branch

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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

Put another log on the fire, the wind's coming up the Kell and it likes a story told over the top of it. No, not that one. The bells. Listen.

Keep reading

Oona had a single stem of harebells tucked inside her coat, cut from the south slope before the first frost. Her father said a stem that colour would never survive the crossing, because the cold takes anything that stands up straight. She kept it against her ribs anyway, one hand flat over it like a bird she'd caught and didn't want to lose.

Halfway up, where the path narrowed to a ledge and the rock wept rust-coloured water, she met a shepherd named Eian, who had lost his way twice that week and was not ashamed to say so. He asked what she carried. She told him the flowers were for the cairn at the summit, where her mother had gone through in the winter. Eian leaned over and counted the buds on the stem, seven of them, the tight ones still folded like paper cups. He said that was a sensible number for a pass that had been closed so long.

At the cairn she unwrapped the moss. The flowers had opened in the warmth of her coat, their petal edges curled back like the rims of teacups. She pressed the stem between two flat stones, firmed the earth round it with her thumb, and started down the far side before the light gave out. Eian swears the cairn still stands, and that the bells come back up there every summer, though nobody has carried them up on purpose since.