Colour tattoo on an upper arm showing a state-shaped outline filled with mountains, a sun, a peach, a log cabin, a pine tree and the words On My Mind, in a neo-traditional style.

State outline with mountains and peach on upper arm

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A colour tattoo sits on the upper arm inside a state-shaped outline. It shows snow-capped mountains under a pink-tinged sun, pink flowers, a banner reading ON MY MIND, rolling green hills, a log cabin, a pine tree and a peach in the lower left. The linework is bold and dark, with shading on the mountains and hills, and the palette is mostly greens, blues, pinks and oranges.

Neo-trad Upper arm State outline Mountain Sun Flower Banner Text Hill Cabin Pine tree

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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

Sit closer, the rain has got under the awning again and the peaches won't keep if we stand about. You want the story of the orchard man? Right. Old Ezra Pollard came down from the hills one October with a mule, a crate of late peaches and a wife who wouldn't speak to him for a year, and he set up his stall at this very end of the market, where the gutter runs brown.

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He sold his fruit by the bag and never once by the pound, because he said a pound was a thing a man could argue with. Every Saturday he told the same tale to whoever stood still long enough: that the cabin above the pine line had been built by his grandfather with stone hauled off the ridge, and that from its porch on a clear morning you could watch the snow on the far peaks turn pink before the sun had even cleared them.

The wet came in the spring of the drought year and stayed three weeks. Nobody bought peaches in that rain. Ezra sat under his tarpaulin counting the same coins over and over, and then one morning the cloud lifted off the hills like a sheet off a bed, and there was the cabin, bright green all round it, and the ridge gone gold. He stood up so fast he knocked the crate over. "Look," he said to nobody, and he pointed, and a child with a dripping hood looked, and so did the woman with the carrier bag, and so did I.

That's all the story is, really. A man who couldn't sell his fruit until the weather showed him what he was selling. Mind the step, love, the cobbles are slick, and take two peaches for the road. They're on the house.