Colour realism tattoo of a peacock with a blue head and green eye-patterned tail feathers across the top of a bare foot, on grass.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Peacock tattoo on the top of a foot

Realism · Other · Colour · Photo

A peacock is shown in profile with its head raised and neck curved, drawn in blue and teal with white highlights and soft grey shading. Its tail fans downward in rows of green feathers, each marked with a blue and black eye pattern that is shaded to look raised. The foot sits on green grass, and the blue-painted toenails are visible at the bottom of the frame.

Realism Other Peacock Feather Eye Foot Toe Bird

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, you lot, and mind the fire doesn't take your shoes. My grandmother told this one about the peacock of Hollin Wood, where the last cottage leans against the oaks. That bird had a neck the blue of a kingfisher's back, and it carried its head so high it could see the church weathercock turn before the wind did.

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It was vain, the way a peacock is vain, and proudest of its tail. Every feather had an eye painted on it, green going to gold, and the bird would stand on the orchard wall and fan them out for anyone passing. The pigs thought it mad. The schoolmaster's boy threw windfalls at it. The peacock only tilted its head and counted its eyes again, one, two, up to a hundred, and then it started over, because it could never remember how many there were.

One dusk, when the rain had come in sideways off the moor, the bird went into the wood to find a dry roost and got lost among the beeches. The paths folded back on themselves. Every trunk had an eye-shaped knot in it, and the bird became certain the trees were watching it back. It tried to fan its tail to frighten them and found the feathers heavy and sodden, so it could only drag them through the bracken like a wet cloak.

Now here is the turn, and it's the bit my grandmother always skipped to. Mother Ashby's lantern came swinging along the path, for she had been searching for her missing hen. She didn't call the bird a fool. She held up the light and said, "Well, look at you, you've been all over the wood gathering eyes." And the peacock looked down at its own tail and saw a hundred little stones of lantern light shining back from the feathers, and it stopped counting. It walked home beside her in the dark, and it never once tried to count them again.