Small colour tattoo of a peacock feather with green, teal and yellow tones and a curled tail on the upper shoulder of a woman seen from behind.

Small peacock feather on a shoulder

Fine line · Shoulder · Colour · Photo

A small tattoo of a peacock feather with a rounded eye in teal, yellow and orange, surrounded by green and blue barbs that taper to a curling tail. The linework is fine and the colour is softly shaded, giving a painted look. The tattoo sits on the upper shoulder near the collarbone, with the subject photographed from behind and a blurred dark background.

Fine line Shoulder Peacock feather Feather Swirl Eye

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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 tyre note changed on the gravel past Sayer's Well, and Nell Harcourt eased the van onto the shoulder before she knew why. The offside was fine. What she had heard was a sheet of tin lifting in the wind, and tangled in the wire of the fence post beyond it was a feather, long and green, its round eye catching the low sun like a lamp left burning in a window.

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She worked it free with two fingers. The barbs were soft and lush at the base and shaded to teal, then to a bruised blue, and at the tip the quill curled over itself in a loop as neat as a clock spring. Two nights back the travelling show had broken down at the diner in Calder Wash, and the keeper, an old man called Iosef who smelled of pipe smoke and liniment, had sworn on his mother's grave that every bird was accounted for. Nell had believed him. Men who swear on their mothers' graves generally do.

At the diner she set the feather on the counter between the ketchup and the sugar pots. The owner wiped his hands and looked at it for a long moment. The peacock had wandered off into the mesquite on the first night, he said, and every dusk after that it came back to the water trough to stand on one leg and shriek at the trucks. On the third evening it did not come back. Nobody had gone looking, because nobody round here went looking for things that wanted to be lost.

Nell tucked the feather into the sun visor, where the light came through the eye and turned it amber. Then she pulled out onto the road, and the curl of the quill swayed gently ahead of her all the way to the state line.