Black and grey fine line owl tattoo with spread wings, a script quote above and geometric lines below, across the upper chest.

Owl with spread wings across upper chest

Fine line · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A large owl with outstretched wings is centred on the upper chest, with moon phases, stars and a fine geometric grid beneath it. A line of script arcs above the wings, and the feathers are built from detailed linework with light hatching in black ink on pale skin. The design is entirely black and grey and is framed by a blue top at the bottom of the image.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lamp in the lambing shed had gone out twice since supper, and my father would have sworn at the wick, but he was three days in hospital in Shrewsbury with his chest and it was me now, with a tin of matches in my coat and frost thick on the gate latch. The ewe in the far pen had been straining since dusk. Nothing else moved except the breath coming off my mouth.

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Above the hay barn the moon was past full and going thin along its lower edge, the way it does in December. The barn owl that lived in the rafters came out over the yard as if she had been waiting for me to open the door. She dropped onto the gatepost, pale as a folded sheet, and looked at me with those black eyes like wet stones. Dad always said she was a bad omen. He also always left her a mouse in the feed bin, so I reckoned he didn't believe it.

The lamb came at half past two, one front leg tucked back, and I had my arm inside the ewe up to the elbow, cursing under my breath so the owl wouldn't tell on me. I got the leg straight. The lamb slid out grey and still. I rubbed it with straw until it sneezed, and that small sound was the loudest thing in the valley.

When I looked up the owl had gone, and the lamp had caught again on its own, a small steady light in the dark shed. I thought of the words Dad had painted on the board above the kitchen door years ago, the ones about keeping a light lit when the nights are long. I hadn't understood them until my hands were wet and the cold had got into my teeth. I trimmed the wick, picked up the lamb, and went in to phone the hospital with the news.

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