Small fine line tattoo of a pink magnolia bloom with a green bud and stem on the inner forearm, with light colour wash shading.

Pink magnolia on a inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A small magnolia bloom in soft pink, with a closed green bud and a thin dark stem curving down the inner forearm. The outlines are fine and delicate, and the petals have light pink shading with touches of green on the leaf. The tattoo sits near the wrist on a pale forearm against a dark, blurred background.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Magnolia Flower Bud Stem Leaf

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now sit closer, because this is the bit where the valley goes quiet. Nobody in Trewen believed the tree would take. Coal dust settled on everything, from the tip to the chapel railings, and the colliery men swore a magnolia would sulk and die before the first winter. Mrs Pryce planted it anyway, in the corner of her yard where the slag heap threw its long shadow, and every evening after the whistle she carried water up the hill in a tin bucket with a split handle.

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The bud came in April, closed tight and green as a pea pod. Then, the week the lower seam flooded, one bloom opened, pale pink at the rim and deeper at the heart, standing on its thin dark stem as if it had come up from another country by mistake. Idris Vaughan saw it from the lamp room. He was nineteen, his hands still black from the shift, and he had not smiled since they brought his brother up on a stretcher. He walked over that evening, stood looking at it a long while, and then laughed out loud, a short rough sound that sent the crows off the fence.

The manager sent word that the tree stood in the path of the new rail line and must come out by Friday. Mrs Pryce said nothing. Idris went up with the men that night and stood under the branches with his cap in his hand. They did not cut it. They dug round the roots instead, slow and careful, and shifted the whole thing six feet to the left, where the rail could curve past it.

So when you walk by the pit head today, look at the wall beside the old weighbridge. The bloom painted there is pink in the same shade as Mrs Pryce's tree, and the bud beneath it is still closed, still waiting for April.