Black and grey palm tree tattoo with dotted circles and fine construction lines on the inner forearm.

Palm tree with geometric lines on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black palm tree with shaded fronds and a textured trunk sits at the centre of the forearm. Thin dotted arcs, a circle and straight radiating lines surround the tree, giving a compass or orbit-like structure. The image is black and grey with a plain, out-of-focus background, and the tattoo fills the middle of the frame.

Fine line Geometric Botanical Forearm Palm tree Circle Dotted line Compass Line

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The coconut came ashore on Scarrow in a fish crate, split and sour, with one seed still rattling inside it like a loose tooth. Nessa Parr carried it up the cliff path in her apron because nobody else on the island wanted it, and she planted it in the lee of the chapel wall, where the wind dropped and the stones held the day's warmth.

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For two summers she did nothing but measure. Each noon she set her brass sighting ring on the flagstone, marked the tip of the tree's shadow with a chalk dot, and joined the dots in her ledger with a pencil and a ruler her late husband had bought in Oban. The arcs crept across the page. Straight lines fanned out to the bell tower on the mainland, to the lighthouse, to the notch in the hills where the boats went out. The villagers called it foolishness. The tree, which had no interest in any of them, put out a new frond every few weeks and leaned a little further towards the sea.

In the third autumn the chalk dots stopped matching her circles. She checked the ruler, the ring and her own arithmetic, and each time the fault was not in the instruments. The palm had been turning. It was not following the sun at all but drawing its own slow orbit around the chapel, and the dotted lines she had been so proud of were only a record of its patience.

She told nobody. On the morning of the first gale she tied the ledger inside her coat and sat in the lee of the trunk until the wind dropped. When the fronds stopped thrashing she drew one last arc, very small, and left the pencil standing in the chalk dot where the shadow had come to rest.