Fine line black tattoo on a forearm showing a snowboarder beside a snowboard, pine trees, a mountain ridge and a crescent moon.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Snowboarder and mountain scene on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single-line outline shows a snowboarder with a board angled above them, set against a mountain ridge, a cluster of pine trees and a crescent moon in the sky. The linework is thin and mostly unshaded, with only the trees filled in with lighter shading. The design is in black ink on pale skin, with the ground drawn as a flat line across the lower part of the composition.

Fine line Forearm Mountain Pine tree Moon Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift stopped at four, same as every February, but Nell Garvie never stopped when the light went. She said the snow kept its own hours. Her father had built the hut at Scree Ash from larch he hauled up on his back, and he had taught her that a board is only a promise you make to the slope, and a promise has to be kept in the dark as well as the day.

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That night the cloud broke around nine and the moon hung over the ridge like a fingernail paring. The motor on the T-bar had seized, so she walked the track in her boots with the old red board on her shoulder, the one with the split tail. Her brother Davy stood on the hut step and shouted that the pines would eat her. She laughed, and the sound went down the valley and came back thinner.

At the top the wind dropped dead. Below, the snow was blue and unmarked except for a torch blinking among the trunks, slow and stupid, the way a torch goes when a man has lost the path and is too proud to shout. Nell did not take the easy traverse. She set the board across the fall line and cut straight down through the gap in the trees, knees loose, and came to a stop beside a walker from Perth who had been sitting on a root for an hour, saying his prayers in a voice he hoped nobody heard.

They went back by the moon, the board dragging behind them like a sledge. Davy had the lamps lit and was counting them off the window, one, two, three, as if the number might come out wrong. Nell hung the red board on its nail by the door, split tail and all, and watched the crescent slide off the ridge until only the pines were left, standing black against the snow, keeping the line.