Realistic colour tattoo of a branch with pink five-petalled blossoms across the top of a foot.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pink blossom branch on a foot

Realism · Other · Colour · Photo

A branch with grey bark and several pink, five-petalled blossoms with green centres wraps diagonally across the top of a foot, curving toward the toes. The shading on the bark and petals is smooth and soft, giving the flowers and wood a realistic, dimensional look. The colour is mostly pinks, greens and greys on light skin, with the foot filling most of the frame against a dark background.

Realism Botanical Other Blossom Branch Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dogwood by the east wall had not flowered in three winters, and Brother Columba had decided, on the strength of a letter from a nursery in Kent, that the fault was yours. You are nineteen, you have been at Saint Eadric's for six weeks, and you have been given the watering can and the job of keeping the tree company.

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Nobody tells you what to say to a tree, so you tell it about the bells, the cold refectory, and the way your mother used to whistle through her teeth when she was pretending not to cry. You work the iron can along the wet flags. The bark is grey and smooth as a pewter spoon, and when you press a thumb to the old scar where a limb was taken off, the sap is cold and faintly sweet.

On the third morning of April you find the first bloom: four pale bracts, each notched at the tip as if someone had pinched it with a fingernail. By the end of the week the whole branch that hangs over the wall has opened, pink at the edges and green at the heart. Columba comes out in his slippers, stands looking for a long while, and says nothing at all, which from him is a sermon.

That evening he hands you a pair of secateurs and shows you where to cut. Not the flowering limb, but a shoot below it, so the tree can keep what it has made. You understand, a little late, that the thanks was never meant for you. You carry the cut stem to the chapel and set it in a jar on the sill, where the evening light comes through the petals and lands on the flagstones in pale pink pools.