Traditional style tattoo of a shaded brown owl perched on a branch with red flowers and green leaves, on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Owl and red flowers on a thigh

Traditional · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A brown owl with large round eyes sits on a branch that curls up the outer thigh, with red five-petal flowers and green leaves around it. The owl is shaded in greys and browns with defined outlines, while the flowers and leaves carry the colour. The tattoo fills the lower centre of the frame, with a woman in a denim short and checked shirt standing beside it.

Traditional Thigh Owl Branch Flower Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom, The snow came in on Tuesday and has not let up, so the lane to Carrow is gone and we are shut in with the Hadley party and their three spaniels. Mother has lit the good candles in the parlour. Mr Pell has taken to sleeping in the stables because he says the upstairs fire smokes, and I have been baking every morning to keep everyone quiet, which means I know to the cupful how much flour is left. It is not enough.

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The owl came back to the old cherry on the south side of the yard last night. You will remember the one Father called Mrs Pardew, who sat on the same branch all through your last summer and never once blinked at the washing. I thought she had gone for good. She had only been waiting out the frost, and when I went out with the lamp she looked at me with those great round eyes as if I were the one who had been away. The cherry is bare as a broom, but the lamplight caught the twigs and for a moment they looked hung with red flowers, the way they did the spring Grandmother died.

I did not tell Mother. She would only say the owl means a death in the house, and we have had enough of those. Instead I spooned the last of the blackberry jam into a saucer and carried it out to the fence post, and this morning the saucer was clean and a single cherry leaf lay folded on top of it, green as anything.

Come home when the road opens. Bring your boots, and bring whoever is the new lodger at the forge, because Mother has decided she likes him, and she has never liked anyone in her life.

Your loving sister, Nell