Colour traditional tattoo on skin showing a red and white lighthouse inside a golden rope heart, with birds, sea, and a pink flower with green leaves below.

Lighthouse in a rope heart with pink flower

Traditional · Other · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a red and white lighthouse on a blue sea, framed by a heart-shaped golden rope border with a few birds in a pale sky. Below it sits a large pink flower with notched petals, a yellow and pink centre, and green leaves. Bold black outlines define the shapes, with flat colour and soft shading in the sky and water.

Traditional Other Lighthouse Heart Rope Sea Wave Bird Flower Leaves Sky

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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

Mind the third stair, it's been loose since the coal strike, and sit where the draught can't find you. Right. You'll all be wanting to know why Mrs Pardoe never once let the front window go dark, and I'll tell it, though my late wife always said I told it wrong and then told it again to make up for it.

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Her husband Alf kept the light at Scarrow Point for nineteen winters. He was a man who could not say a plain thing when a sideways one would do, so when he asked Ada to walk out with him, he took a pink blossom off the vicar's tree, knotted a length of tarred rope round it into a heart, and rowed it out past the breakwater to where she stood on the harbour wall. He didn't say a word. He just held it up and let the wind have his hat.

Then came the autumn of the big blow. Three days of it, and the sea came over the rocks and took the lamp-house roof clean off. Alf was up that tower with a lantern and a sack of sand when the cloud tore open for a minute and a whole flock of gulls came through, wheeling round the glass as if they'd lost their way home. Ada saw the light from the harbour and knew he was alive. She lit the lamp in this window that night, and she never once let it go out, not in all the years after, not even the morning they carried him down the hill.

So that's the window. And that's why the rope heart hangs on the hook by the kitchen door, still knotted, still smelling of tar. Mind you don't touch it. Now, who's for cocoa, and who's going to tell me what they've got hidden in that suitcase?