Colour tattoo on the side ribs of a torso showing a large dark blue Om symbol entwined with a pink cherry blossom branch and a purple and orange lotus below.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Om symbol with cherry blossom and lotus on ribs

Botanical · Ribs · Mixed · Photo

A large dark blue Om symbol sits across the side of the ribs, with a branch of pink cherry blossoms curling around it and up towards the top of the frame. A purple lotus with orange-tipped petals rests at the base of the design, with a small wisp of smoke or shading beside its stem. The linework is bold and the blossoms and lotus use soft shading, with the mixed colour set against the skin and a plain background.

Botanical Ribs Om Cherry blossom Lotus Branch Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The boats came in on the ebb that spring, and Tomas Reyn's nets came up empty for the ninth night running. His wife said it was the sea sulking. The old woman who sold eels at the quay said it was the humming.

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Nobody in Carrow Bay could say where the humming came from. It rose from under the water off the point, a low note that made the bait tubs shiver and the gulls go quiet. Tomas rowed out alone in the grey before dawn, trying to find where it started. On the tenth morning a branch came drifting towards his oars, still in flower, pink petals stuck to its bark like sugared paper. Caught in its fork was a single purple lotus, its roots dripping, which had no business growing anywhere in that cold northern water.

He followed the branch to the reef. There the water lay still and smooth as oil, and the note lifted through it in the shape of a closed loop, with a tail that swept up and a small hook at the top. He did not understand it, but he understood he was meant to listen. He sat with his hands flat on the gunwales until the light came, and when he hauled the net it was heavy with cod.

That evening he rowed the lotus back to the quay and tied it to the post outside the eel seller's door. By morning the bloom had gone, but the petals had set into the wood like pressed paper. Nobody fished the point after that without first humming the note, badly, and the nets came up full every spring, which the old woman said was the sea paying its debts.