Black ink sketch of a mountain range above the handwritten script words the mountains are calling, shown as a tattoo design on paper.

Mountain range with script quote

Black and grey · Flash

A hand-drawn black ink sketch shows a range of four jagged mountain peaks, with the tallest on the left and shaded edges suggesting rock. Below it, the words the mountains are calling... are written in a flowing cursive script. The image is in black ink on white paper, with a sliver of a finger visible at the left edge, and the design is centred with the script running beneath the peaks.

Mountain Peak Script Quote Sketch

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ruth, The fog came in at four yesterday and sat on the gallery rail like a wet dog, so I've been trimming the wick by feel. Your postcard came over with the Tuesday boat. Four black peaks, drawn so hard the pen nearly went through, and under them, in your loopy hand, the mountains are calling. I read it twice, then propped it against the tea tin where I can see it from the stove.

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You'll think me daft, but I've taken to answering it. The rock here is granite under a skin of weed, and the highest thing on Scarrow is the flagpole, which is not a flagpole at all but Mr Pryce's old mast with a gull on it. The sea goes flat for weeks and then tears itself open. Nobody climbs anything here. We climb the stairs, a hundred and twelve of them, and count them in the dark because the lamp needs winding every two hours and the log needs its ink.

Last night the cloud lifted near two and I went out on the gallery with the spirit lamp. Over the mainland there were banks of cloud stacked in the exact shape of your drawing, four of them, their tops lit pink by my own beam as it swept round. For a moment I thought the hills had come down to see what the light was for. Then the beam went past and they were just weather again.

I've written to the office asking for a posting on the Lakes side, any station with a path above it. They'll say no, they always say no. Tell me if the snow's on Helvellyn yet. I'll post this with the tide and keep the lamp turning until the answer comes. Your brother, Edwin. P.S. Tell the mountains the keeper is coming, though he'll be slow on the stairs.