Colour floral vine tattoo with black swirling linework running from the calf down over the ankle, with a large blue and purple flower near the ankle bone.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Floral vine tattoo on ankle and calf

Botanical · Ankle · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a climbing vine with several flowers in red, orange, yellow, blue and purple, plus small green leaves and tiny dots. Thin black tendrils curl through the design and act as the main linework, while the petals are filled with flat colour and some have lighter outlines. The leg is photographed against a dark grey backdrop, with the vine running upward from the top of the foot to the middle of the calf.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bindweed came up through the slag heap behind Ferndale Row the same spring the colliery closed, and my father swore at it every morning on his way to an allotment he no longer had reason to walk to. He kept it off his beans with a hoe and a bad temper. Mam said to let it be. Nothing else on that black hillside would take root.

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The summer I was twelve, I cut a length of the vine with my penknife, the one with the cracked red handle, and tied it to the rusted frame of the old headgear at the top of the lane. I wanted to see whether it would climb iron. It did. By August it had wound round the wheel spokes and pushed out flowers the colour of boiled sweets: a blue one with a purple heart, a yellow one tucked under a rust-coloured bell, little pink stars nobody had planted.

Dad came up the lane with his hoe over his shoulder, stopped, and said nothing for a long while. Then he took off his cap. The men who worked Number Four used to say the pit took everything but what grew back on top of it. He eased the vine loose from the wheel, very carefully, the way you would lift a sleeping child, and wound it round his own gatepost instead.

We still have that post. The vine is thick as a wrist now, and I keep the pressed flowers in the family Bible between Ruth and Jonah. Every spring the bindweed comes back, and every spring I let it climb.

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