Colourful sketch-style blossom branch tattoo with pink, red, blue and orange linework on the inside of a forearm.

Sketched blossom branch on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A branch of blossom flowers, buds and leaves is drawn in loose, sketchy linework across the forearm. The lines shift from pink and red at the top to deep red, blue and purple through the centre, then to orange at the lower buds. The design sits on a plain pale arm against a dark background, with a red patterned sleeve at the left edge.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Blossom Flower Bud Leaf Branch Sketch

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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

The frost came on the Sunday before the blossom was due, and by Monday morning every bud in the top orchard had gone the colour of old brass. Dad stood at the gate with his hands deep in his coat and didn't say anything. He never did when the weather had the last word.

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I took the secateurs and walked the rows anyway. Some of the branches still held colour if you looked hard enough, a pink blush at the tips where the sap hadn't quite given up. Blue on the bark where the cold had cracked it, dark red where the wood was older and braver. Mum used to say you could read an apple tree like a letter if you held it up to the window. I held a cut stem against the grey sky and the colours ran into each other like ink on wet paper.

Down by the bottom gate, Mrs Pollard's old Bramley had come through. Two blossoms, open, sitting on a twist of wood the frost had missed. Orange at the base where the flower met the stem, as if someone had struck a match under it. I cut the branch clean and carried it up to the kitchen in a jam jar of cold water.

Dad saw it on the table and said nothing for a long while. Then he pulled out the chair beside me and asked whether I thought the bees would still come. I said I'd bring the hives round in the morning. Outside, the orchard rang with frost, and the one branch on the windowsill kept its colours all night.