Black and grey traditional tattoo on an upper arm showing mountains, pine trees, a cabin, stars, clasped hands and pinecones above the words ON THE ROAD TO WHOLENESS.

Mountain cabin scene with clasped hands

Traditional · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A traditional-style tattoo on the upper arm shows a mountain range with a small cabin and pine trees on the slopes, with stars and horizontal sky lines above. Two clasped hands rest on a rock, flanked by pinecones and leaves, with the words ON THE ROAD TO WHOLENESS in block capitals beneath. The linework is bold and the mountains and rock are shaded with dotted and stippled grey, all in black ink.

Traditional Upper arm Mountain Pine tree Cabin Star Clasped hands Lettering Rock Leaves

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

You'll want to know why the cabin on Harrow Scar has no lock on its door, and I'll tell you, though Dad would have thrown his tea at me for it. Two brothers built it the summer the road was cut through to Keld. The elder had a bad knee from a fall at the quarry, the younger had a temper like a dog on a chain, and neither would let the other carry the last slates up the path alone.

Keep reading

They fell out over that big flat stone they couldn't shift. Ned said it should go under the hearth, Tom said it belonged out on the rise where you could see the peaks. For three years they didn't speak except to shout across the valley at their sheep. Mother said the mountains would sooner crack than let them be kind to each other, and she was right about the mountains.

The February the snow came in sideways, Tom went up after Ned's flock and didn't come back down. Ned went looking with a lantern and a rope, and the stars came out so hard over the ridge that he could see the line of every peak without a light. He found Tom wedged under the rock, shoulder jammed, and it took the two of them an hour to get him clear. They sat on that stone till dawn with their hands locked together, neither one wanting to be first to let go.

The handprints are still there in the lichen, if you know where to look. Dad always touched the door frame on his way out, and I never once asked him why.