Fine line colour tattoo of an open lavender wreath with green leaves and crossed stems, on the upper back near the shoulder blade.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lavender wreath on upper back

Fine line · Back · Colour · Photo

An open circular wreath of purple lavender sprigs and green leaves, with the two stems crossing at the bottom. The linework is fine and delicate, with soft shading on the leaves and small flower clusters. The wreath sits centrally on pale skin, with a magenta top off the shoulder in the lower right of the frame.

Fine line Botanical Back Wreath Lavender Flower Leaves Branch Sprig

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lavender came up from Mrs Pell's garden in a wet sack every Friday, and every Friday I laid it out on the ticket office counter while the 4.12 ran late. Ada Pell never rode the train. She sent her cuttings down the line with whoever was heading for Ely, and told me to make something of them, the way you might tell a boy to mind the dog.

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I was no hand at weaving. My first attempts fell apart in my fingers, stems snapping at the joints, the flowers bruising to a grey-purple. Ada had shown me the trick in her kitchen the winter before: bend each sprig back on itself, tuck the next one under, and leave the circle open at the top so there is always a way in. She said a closed wreath is for graves. An open one is for waiting.

Gradually the ring took shape on the bench beside the stove. The stems crossed at the bottom, where I bound them with green thread, two ends overlapping like a pair of hands that have stopped reaching. Passengers asked whether it was for a wedding. I said it was for the bench, which was true enough, since the bench was where we all sat when the trains didn't come.

In March the sack arrived empty. A signalman brought word that Ada had gone to her sister's in Cromer and would not be back before the frost. I hung the wreath on the hook by the platform lamp, open side facing the tracks. The next Friday the 4.12 pulled in on time for once, and I stood in the cold and watched the lavender turn slowly in the wind, the gap at the top wide enough for anyone to walk through.