Fine line botanical tattoo of pink roses and grey eucalyptus sprigs on the upper back, below the nape of the neck.

Pink rose bouquet on upper back

Botanical · Back · Mixed · Photo

A bouquet of pink roses, with a small white daisy-like bloom and grey-black eucalyptus sprigs, is tattooed on the upper back. The linework is fine and delicate, with soft pink shading inside the petals and light grey shading on the leaves and stems. The bouquet is angled diagonally down from the neck, and the subject wears a dark zipped top with long dark hair falling across the shoulder.

Botanical Fine line Back Rose Bouquet Flower Sprig Leaves Daisy Stem

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Aldous had grown the roses along the churchyard wall for thirty years, and nobody in Penhallow could remember her cutting a bloom for herself. So when the new schoolmaster came up the hill in March with a cardboard case and a cough, the village expected her to leave him be. Instead she left a bundle of pink roses on his step, tied with garden twine, with a grey sprig of eucalyptus pushed through the knot. Her brother had brought the cutting home from the Antipodes in a tin, and nobody believed it would take in Cornish soil, least of all Mrs Aldous.

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He sent the bundle back with a note asking whether a man might pay for flowers. She wrote her answer on the back of it in pencil. The flowers were not for sale. He should look at the daisy in the middle, the only thing in the garden that had ever asked to be picked.

He did not understand until May, when the daisies came up through the path between the graves and a child from the top class brought him a pressed one, folded inside a spelling test. Written underneath was the name of a boy who had gone down the pit at sixteen and not come up. Mrs Aldous had been keeping a list of the children she taught, and the ones the village had lost, for longer than the schoolmaster had been alive.

On the first fine morning he carried a fresh bundle down to the harbour wall and laid it on the stone where the boats came in. The tide turned, and it went out slowly, pink against the grey water, and nobody on the quay asked him what it meant.