Small pine tree on the inner wrist
Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
A raised hand is shown against out-of-focus conifer branches, with a small, simple pine tree tattoo on the inner wrist. The tree is a solid dark silhouette with a tapered triangular crown and a short trunk, drawn with fine, clean outlines. The ink is a single dark tone, and the soft green background keeps the tattoo as the clear focal point.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Dear Ruth, the ewes are all in the low field now and Dad has finally stopped complaining about the gate. I walked the top fence on Tuesday with the dog and counted the Christmas trees we planted the spring you left, the ones along the burn. Forty-one came through. The rest the deer had, or the frost, and I didn't have the heart to replace them with the cheap stock from the garden centre, so I've left the gaps.
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There was a letter from the council about the shed roof, and another from a man in Perth wanting to know if the Norway spruce were for sale by the metre. I wrote back that they weren't. You'd laugh at me for that, I know, when you'd have sold the whole ridge by March to pay for your flat. But I kept thinking how you used to climb the tallest one by the cattle grid and shout down that you could see the sea from there, and I never once believed you, and I never once told you I didn't.
I went up there this morning before the light came. The needles were white at the tips and the air smelled of resin and cold iron. I stood under it with my hand flat against the bark and I thought about how you'd be doing the same thing somewhere south, with your little tree on your wrist that you had done in the spring before you went, the one you said was for remembering the way home. I laughed at you for that too. I'm not laughing now.
The lambs are due in March. Come up for them if you can. Bring the boots I bought you that you never wore, and bring your own pair of hands, because the fence on the east side is still down and I can't lift the post alone.
Love, Mairi
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