Black and grey fine line tattoo on the inner forearm, split into two bands with a mountain, sun and sunflower above and a sunflower, waves, stars and crescent moon below.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mountain, sunflower and moon forearm bands

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A forearm with two separate tattoo bands, each framed by a thin horizontal line where the skin between them is left bare. The upper band shows a sun, a sunflower and a mountain range with pine trees, while the lower band shows a sunflower over rolling waves, with scattered stars and a crescent moon. The linework is fine and precise, with light stippled dotwork for the stars, and the design is entirely in black ink and grey tones against a pale background.

Fine line Dotwork Botanical Forearm Mountain Sun Sunflower Pine tree Wave Star Crescent moon

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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

Sit down, sit down, and mind the nets, they'll have your sleeve off if you let them. You want the story of the Marguerite Ann, though nobody in Skerrow calls her that now, they say the Gull. Her skipper was Tomas Veal, and he could read weather the way my mother read tea leaves, badly but with tremendous confidence.

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Every morning he climbed the harbour steps at four, and the sun would be coming up behind the Carrick hills, that great grey back of them with the pines combed down their flanks like wet hair. Tomas used to say the land got the sun first and the sea got what was left over. He meant to be out past the breakwater when the sun had given up entirely and only the moon was left to steer by.

The year the herring went deep, the boats stayed out three nights. On the third, the fog came off the water like milk left in a pan, and the lights of Skerrow went out one by one. Tomas's son Ivo was aboard, a lad who could not tell a bollard from a bishop, and his mother had made Tomas swear he'd bring him home. Tomas steered by the moon, a thin paring of it, and by the sound of the bell buoy off the Teeth, and he did not once look at the compass he didn't trust.

When the Gull finally nosed past the wall on the fourth morning, the moon was still up, pale as a fingernail. On the harbour wall Tomas's wife had planted sunflowers in old paraffin tins, and all that summer they had turned to face the water. Ivo said afterwards they had been watching for him. Tomas said they had only been watching the boats, which was the same thing, and he climbed the steps to see for himself.