Black and grey dotwork tattoo wrapped around the forearm like a band, showing a shaded forest silhouette with a small moon above the treeline.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Forest band tattoo on a forearm

Dotwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey tattoo forms a band around the forearm, filled with a forest silhouette of pine trees against a pale sky. The shading is built from stippled dots that fade from dense black at the edges to soft grey near the centre. A single small white dot, left unshaded, sits in the upper sky area like a moon, and the band is shown against a plain dark background.

Dotwork Forearm Forest Tree Moon Band Landscape Silhouette

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the fire wants feeding and I am too old to get up twice. You have come up the pass in the wrong season, so you will hear the wind all night, and the wind tells the same story as me, only louder. The road over Carrow Gap used to have a tollhouse, and a woman named Hesketh kept it with a dog called Bramble and a lamp she never let go out. Every dusk she walked the ridge to light the marker stones, one after another, until the whole edge of the valley looked like a necklace somebody had dropped in the heather.

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One November the snow came early and the lamps went dark before she reached the last stone. Below her the pines stood black against a sky the colour of old pewter, and there was only the one pale patch where the cloud had thinned, a moon no bigger than a shilling hanging above the trees. Hesketh said afterwards that she followed that little light the way you follow a dropped coin across a kitchen floor, on hands and knees if need be. Bramble went ahead, nose down, stopping every few yards to be sure she was still there.

She found the stone by walking into it. She lit the lamp with fingers she could not feel, and from the top of the cairn she saw the road, the tollhouse window, and a second light answering from the valley floor. Her brother had come up with a second lantern because he had been watching the ridge all afternoon. Neither of them ever said who had left the lamps lit that night, and the tollhouse still has one burning in the window, though the road has been tarmacked and nobody needs it now. Go to sleep. The moon will be out again by morning, and it will be exactly that small.