Black and grey fine line tattoo of a small sun and crescent moon on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sun and crescent moon on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo of a sun with rays and a separate crescent moon sits on the forearm close to the wrist. The linework is thin and even, with the sun drawn as a circle with short radiating strokes and the moon as a single outlined arc. The photograph is black and white, with soft directional light falling across the arm against a plain, shadowed background.

Fine line Forearm Sun Moon Crescent moon Celestial

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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 fair came over the hill at Harrow Dene the week the barley went yellow, and the first thing it unloaded was a lantern-maker's wife who had not spoken since her husband drowned. Her name was Ada Penhallow, and she sold nothing. She sat under a striped awning with a tin box of thread, and when children asked her what was in it she said, the day and the night, and went back to her sewing.

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The fair's ringmaster, a man called Sorrel, had a daughter who was afraid of the dark. Every evening Ada took her to the edge of the field and held up two fingers of her own hand, one bright and one curved, and told her the sun would come back round for her the way a dog comes back from a hedge. The girl grew braver. Sorrel paid Ada in cold mutton and asked no questions, which was the custom of the road.

On the last night before the fair moved on to Stoke Flitch, the girl came running with a needle and a spool of black cotton. Ada took the child's wrist, pricked a small ring of ink into the skin beside the bone, and drew a sun with her thumb-width of rays, then a moon no bigger than a fingernail paring. She said nothing about the drowned man. The girl did not ask.

In the morning the big top was gone and the tin box was empty except for one spool, wound with white thread. Sorrel's daughter wore the two marks for the rest of her life, and whenever someone asked about them she said that a kind woman had lent her the sky for a while, and that she had given it back.