Small black fine line pine tree tattoo on the inner wrist, resting against a fluffy grey sleeve and white bedsheet.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small pine tree on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single small pine tree sits on the inner wrist, drawn in thin black outline with light fill and fine branch detail. The tree is upright and centred, with the trunk pointing down toward the wrist crease. The subject is shown against a pale grey knitted cuff and a soft white fabric background, with even natural light.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Pine tree Conifer Tree

Find an artist for this

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 innkeeper's daughter had counted nineteen sacks of flour in the cellar before the snow closed the pass, and by the third week of it she had stopped counting anything else. Her father kept the fire banked in the taproom and the door barred, though nobody came up the valley road now but the wind.

Keep reading

On the morning of the Feast of St Brannoc a stranger knocked, a man with a dog that would not stop shivering. He carried a sprig of fir tucked into his coat and asked whether the inn still kept the old custom of the green tree. Her father said the custom had died with his grandmother. The stranger said that was a pity, because the valley had been warm in the winters of the old story, and asked only for a corner by the hearth.

They gave him the corner. In the night he went out to the yard with a hand axe and came back before dawn with a young pine, no taller than a boy, its roots wrapped in sacking. He stood it in the washtub and told the girl to fetch water. "Every tree remembers the ground it came from," he said, "and it will bring some of that warmth in with it if you ask politely."

She poured the water. The pine drank. By morning the snow had stopped, and the valley road showed bare all the way to the bridge. The stranger and his dog were gone, but the tree stayed, and the girl planted it in the thaw beside the well, where it still stands. Her father swore the inn had never been warmer than that winter, though he also swore the bread was fresh the day before.