Fine line black and grey palm tree tattoos on the upper thigh of each leg, with the trees placed side by side above the knees.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching palm trees on two thighs

Fine line · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

Two matching palm trees are tattooed above the knees, one on each leg. Each tree has a slender trunk and a crown of drooping fronds drawn in fine, delicate lines with soft grey shading. The ink is black and grey on skin, and the composition centres each tree on its leg against a plain white top and grey fabric background.

Fine line Botanical Thigh Palm tree Matching Leg

Find an artist for this

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

The man at the Penhallow nursery said palms would never take on the north side of the harbour wall, so Ruth and I bought two of them anyway, carried in a bucket of sea-salt water and lugged up the hill like a pair of stolen cats. We were nineteen and had just been told the summer boat to Lisbon was cancelled for good. Ruth said if we couldn't leave, we could at least bring something green in.

Keep reading

We planted them behind the chandlery, in the strip of shingle where the gulls fought over fish heads. Every morning for a month I walked down with a watering can that leaked from the spout, and every morning Ruth had got there first and was kneeling in the gravel, talking to her tree as if it owed her money. Mine drooped. Hers stood up straight. By August hers had put out three fronds the colour of old pennies and mine had none, and Ruth laughed until she had to sit down in the wet.

Then the winter gales came up the channel and took the wall apart plank by plank. When the water went down, I found my palm snapped at the root, its trunk lying across the shingle like a dropped oar. Ruth's was gone entirely, roots and all. We walked the length of the front twice that week and found nothing but gulls.

Years later I did the thing we'd always meant to do. I sat at the end of the pier with a bag of salt and a single fresh sapling and waited for a boat that wasn't coming. When it got too dark to see the water, I planted it anyway, and I spoke to it the way Ruth used to, as if it owed me money.