Black and grey tattoo of a mountain with clouds, pine trees and a striped water reflection in a diamond shape on the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mountain landscape with pines on the ribs

Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a mountain peak under a cloud band, with a row of pine trees along the base and a striped water reflection below, all enclosed in a diamond-shaped composition. The mountain and clouds are built from fine hatching and cross-hatching, while the trees and reflection are solid black fills. The image is entirely black and grey, with the design sitting centrally on bare skin against a dark background.

Ribs Mountain Cloud Pine tree Tree Water Reflection Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The radio had gone quiet again by the time Ruth Calloway climbed the last flight of the tower, and she took that as the mountain's way of telling her to stop waiting for Dennis to call back. Below her the pines stood in their dark rows, shouldering down the slope to the lake, and the lake held the whole peak upside down, cloud and all, until a breeze came up the valley and broke it into stripes.

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Dennis had taught her the old trick for reading that water. Flat and calm meant the air was settled, and settled air meant the smoke would lie down in the valleys instead of climbing. He had written the reading in the logbook in his square capitals every morning for nineteen summers, and then one June he simply did not come up the trail, and the logbook went on without him. She kept his column going. Wind south-west, light. Lake glass.

On the twelfth morning a thin grey thread rose from the far side of the ridge, no thicker than a hair against the cloud band. She bent to the map, took a bearing with the brass compass he had left her, and reached for the handset with the hand that had stopped shaking. The lake was still as a plate. She read the stripes of its reflection and they ran straight as ruled lines, and she knew the air was lying down, and she knew she had perhaps an hour before it stopped.

She keyed the radio and gave the bearing in his flat, unhurried voice, the way he used to, and when the crews answered she wrote it in the log beneath his last entry, in her own hand, which was not square at all.