Black dotwork drawing of a mountain, pine trees and a small cabin inside a diamond shape with geometric ornament below, shown as a tattoo design on white paper.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mountain cabin landscape in a geometric diamond

Dotwork · Black and grey · Flash

The drawing shows a mountain peak with a cabin and a row of pine trees in the lower left, all built from fine stippled dots. The landscape sits inside a diamond outline, with a zigzag geometric pattern beneath it and a knotted ornament at the base, and a dotted plume rises above the summit. It is rendered entirely in black ink on a plain white background with no colour.

Dotwork Geometric Mountain Pine tree Cabin Smoke Diamond Landscape Knot

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

Sit closer, you, where the lamp reaches. Nobody tells this one standing up. The cabin above Clachan Pass had one window and a chimney that smoked the way a wet dog shakes itself, all at once and then not for days. Old Morag Reid lived in it alone. Every morning she laid a fire and watched the smoke to see whether it would rise straight or slide sideways down the scree. Straight meant the weather would hold. Sideways meant someone should come up and see to her.

Keep reading

The summer the bridge at the ford washed out, the post stopped coming up the track, so the valley people kept an eye on the smoke instead. For nine days it rose thin, grey and steady, and they went about their business. On the tenth morning it came up in a tight black spiral, the way a man's voice climbs when he has something to say and no breath left to say it with.

Ewan Gair took the grey mule up with flour and a tin of oil, because he was the only one in the glen who still owed her money and wanted to pay it. He found her sitting by the stove with her boots laced and a pot of tea gone cold beside her. She said the chimney had been lying to them all week, packed with wet larch needles so the smoke would climb and keep the lowland folk counting. She had wanted somebody to climb the mountain for once and not just wave from the valley.

He carried her down on the mule's back with her hands in her lap. Behind them the cabin sat under the peak with its door open and no smoke at all, and the pines went down the slope like a row of folded umbrellas. Ewan looked back once. The sky above the summit was clean, and that was how he knew she had got what she was after.