Small colour tattoo of an orange and yellow daisy with green leaves on the side of an ankle, in a botanical style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small daisy and leaves on ankle

Botanical · Ankle · Colour · Photo

A small flower with orange and yellow petals and a soft centre sits at the top of a thin green stem with two leaves. The petals use soft, blended shading and the leaves are outlined in darker green, against plain skin and a dark background. The tattoo sits off-centre on the left of the frame, with plenty of empty space around it.

Botanical Ankle Daisy Flower Leaves Stem

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dance hall at Low Thwaite still burned its paraffin lamps on the first Saturday after the harvest, and Oswin Pell played his fiddle with his eyes shut, because he said he could not bear to watch who was sitting out. Nell Harker sat out every week by the door. She had no partner and no good shoes, only the boots she had walked down from the top farm, and her mother said a girl with no partner should go home before the tunes got long.

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One night a drover called Tobias Ware, new to the valley and smelling of wet sheep, crossed the boards and asked her to dance. They turned until the lamps began to smoke. Each time the reel came round he gave her a daisy he had picked from the verge on the road in, its head yellow at the rim and deepening to orange at the middle, the stem still wrapped in damp grass. Nell tucked them into her hair until she had a crown of them, and the fiddler, watching through half-closed eyes, said nothing about the flowers wilting by morning.

Tobias walked her to the gate at the end of the night and promised to come back before the lambs were weaned. He did not come back. The fiddler said he had gone south with the flock, and that was the end of it. Nell kept the last daisy pressed flat inside her boot, under the heel, where it crackled whenever she walked to the hall.

The next spring a single daisy came up beside the gate, a thin green stem with two leaves folded low. Nell did not pick it. When Oswin Pell struck up the reel that Saturday, she stood, crossed the boards on her own, and danced with the empty air until the lamps went out.