Small fine line black tattoo of a leafy botanical sprig running diagonally across the inner wrist and lower forearm.

Fine line leafy sprig on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small sprig of leaves and stems is tattooed on the wrist and lower forearm, angled from the wrist up towards the arm. The linework is thin and delicate, with leaves rendered in light shading and fine outlines. The tattoo is in black ink only, set against the soft skin tone of the arm, with a blurred background of a room and a grey fabric surface.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Sprig Leaves Branch Plant Stem

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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 seed packet had split at the seam by the time it reached Ruth, so she spent the first hour of the afternoon picking grey dust off the kitchen oilcloth and folding the paper back into a shape it would never hold again. Her brother had written from the coast in pencil, the letters leaning right like they were trying to get off the page. Rosemary, he'd put, and then underlined it twice, as if she might argue.

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She went out the back with a trowel and a jam jar of water. The bed by the wall had gone to bindweed while nobody was looking, and she knelt in it until her knees ached through the cotton. Down the lane the baker's boy was whistling something from the wireless, the same three notes over and over, and a dog barked at the sound of the bell on the van as it turned the corner by the chapel.

She found a sprig in the pot by the step that had come up on its own from last year's plant, thin and leggy, leaning towards the light. Ruth snapped it at the joint, the way her mother had shown her, and held it up against the sky. The leaves were the colour of old pennies. She thought of the coast, of a man in a borrowed coat looking out at water and writing down the names of things so he would not forget them.

She pressed the cutting into the soil by the wall and watered it, slowly, so the jar would last. Then she sat back on her heels and waited for the rain, which was late, and which she did not mind.