Traditional style tattoo of a teal five-petalled flower with orange-brown leaves on the outer thigh, with part of a coloured eye tattoo visible above.

Teal flower with orange leaves on thigh

Traditional · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A bold teal five-petalled flower with a pale teal centre and orange stamens sits at the centre of the design, surrounded by brown and orange leaves and stems. The flower and leaves have heavy black outlines, with shading and vein details rendered in darker tones. Part of an ornate gold and red tattoo with an eye is visible in the top corner, and the photograph is taken close up on the thigh.

Traditional Botanical Thigh Flower Leaves Stem Eye Ornament

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit yourself down on that crate and mind the wasps, they're drunk on the windfalls this time of year. It was late August, the year the Pritchard lad sold the top orchard to the man from Ledbury. Everyone in the valley knew about the wild rose that grew by the old perry pear, the one nobody had planted. It bloomed teal. Not pink, not white like the hedge roses, but the colour of a kingfisher's back under water.

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Mrs Gwen Ollerenshaw had the cutting from a travelling dyer who paid for her bed with a length of wool. She put it in the wall corner where the frost never reached, and it sulked for three summers. Then one morning it opened five petals, each with a thin black seam like a sewn hem, and a pale crown in the middle dusted with orange. The bees went mad for it. The men came up from the cider sheds to stare.

The man from Ledbury wanted that wall for a sale board. He had his trowel out before the leaves had turned, and the rose went the way leaves go in the last hot week, browning at the edges, copper and rust creeping in. Gwen stood in front of it with her arms folded and said nothing, which was how you knew to be careful.

He dug it out on a Tuesday. By the Friday, every apple in the top orchard had split along its seam, as if something had pressed them from the inside. Next spring the sale board was propped against that wall, and a single teal bloom had pushed up through the crack at its foot. Gwen never said a word about it. She didn't need to, and neither do I.