Forearm tattoo of dark pine trees fading into dots at the wrist, with a small orange crescent moon and a pink sky wash, shown from two angles.

Pine forest and crescent moon on a forearm

Dotwork · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two photographs show the same inner forearm from opposite sides. Dark pine trees rise from a stippled dotwork fade near the wrist, with a small orange crescent moon and a soft pink sky wash above them. The second angle reveals a small orange cabin shape set among the trees.

Dotwork Forearm Pine tree Forest Crescent moon Cabin Sky Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pines came down to the back door of the Lochend Ballroom, so every night at closing my uncle Tam swept their needles off the sprung floor and out into the car park. He said a dance hall in the woods had to earn its keep. On Saturdays the whole village came, the band played until the sky over the firs went from ink to pink, and nobody checked the clock because the moon was always the last thing to leave.

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Ellen Rae from the ferry crossing asked me for the last waltz, which was a mistake, because I trod on her shoes twice and she laughed both times. Outside, the trees went black against a sky still streaked with rose. She said the keeper's cabin up the forestry track had a light on, and that nobody had lived in it since her father retired. I told her it was probably the moon caught in a window. She said the moon did not usually smoke.

We walked up the track with our shoes in our hands, the grass cold and wet under our feet. The cabin sat in a clearing with a crooked chimney, and a thread of orange smoke was climbing straight up into the dusk, bending only once it met the pink. Ellen stood very still and then told me to go and knock, because she had always wanted to know whether that stove still worked. I did not knock. I stood beside her and watched the smoke until the crescent over the firs was the only thing left lit.