Back view of a woman with her hair in a bun, showing a small black and grey mountain peaks tattoo on the back of her neck, with a mountain landscape behind her.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mountain peaks tattoo on the back of the neck

Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A woman is seen from behind with her hair tied in a loose bun, her face not visible. A small tattoo of jagged mountain peaks sits on the back of her neck, drawn in black and grey with soft shading. The warm, sepia-toned photograph shows a snowy mountain landscape blended into the background.

Neck Mountain Hair bun Landscape

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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

Dear Tom, The ice came off the cut on Tuesday, and the Mercy Jane went out on the first clear water with forty tons of slate for Leeds. I'm writing this at the tiller with the kettle sulking on the stove, so forgive the blots. You asked whether the hills still look the same from the towpath. They do. From the lock at Hebden you can see three peaks above the mill, which the lock-keeper calls the Chimney, Cold Stone, and the one nobody will name. When the snow sits on them they look like someone tore a sheet of grey paper and left the edges showing.

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I found Father's drawing in the locker under the spare rope. It is the same three peaks, done in pencil on the back of a delivery docket, shaded so heavily in places the paper has gone glossy. Beneath them he wrote, in that careful hand of his, 'Keep the line unbroken.' I took it for a bargeman's superstition until I saw the date, which is the week before the fever took him. He never went higher than the Hebden locks in his life, Tom. Whatever he was drawing, he was drawing from memory, or from someone else's telling.

I've pinned it beside the kettle where the steam can't reach it. Every evening when we pass under Brighouse bridge the hills swing into the gap between the chimney stacks, small and sharp, and then the bridge takes them away again. I keep waiting for the line to break. It hasn't yet. Bring your good boots when you come down at Easter, and bring whatever you saw from the top, because I'd like to check whether it matches his. Your loving sister, Nell.