Collage of three feather tattoos: a shaded feather within an infinity symbol with the words Faith and Love on a forearm, a faded version with Life and Love on another forearm, and a small feather on

Infinity feather tattoos with faith, love and life

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The main photograph shows a shaded feather running through an infinity symbol on the inner forearm, with the script words Faith and Love set into the loops. The lower left photo shows a finer, faded line version of the same design with the word Life, and the lower right photo shows a small feather tattoo on the ear. The tattoos are in black and grey with soft shading on the feather.

Realism Lettering Forearm Other Feather Infinity symbol Faith Love Life Script Ear

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tobias Reeve took the Harrow Gap alone that November, with two mules, a sack of letters for the mill at Coldbeck and a wife who had stood in the yard and not waved. The road climbs in loops, the way the old carters said it did, and each loop brings a man back over ground he has already walked, a little higher every time. He had made the crossing twenty times and never once thought the path was doing anything on purpose.

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The snow came on the third day, thick and sideways. On the last switchback, where a cairn of grey stones marked the turn, one mule stopped and would not be led. Tobias found a feather pressed between two stones, long and pale, its shaft bent as if it had been folded and then let go. He put it inside his coat because he could not think what else to do with it, and because his fingers were already too cold to leave it lying there.

At the summit inn, old Mother Ysolde took one look at the coat and laughed. 'That's the pass's own quill,' she said. 'It writes the road. You carry it over and you carry it back, and the road remembers you both ways.' She told him a feather stays a feather only while someone keeps it moving, and that a man who stops keeping anything moving becomes a stone on somebody else's cairn.

He came down the far side in a clear morning, sure he had beaten the storm. Then the track bent round a shoulder of rock and he saw his own two lines of prints running up towards him through the snow, going the other way. The mules stamped beside him. He took the feather from his coat, set it on the cairn, and walked on down the road he had been given, and at the bottom, where the smoke from his own chimney was rising, he lifted his hand.