Colour realism sleeve tattoo on the upper arm and shoulder showing a tree with glowing branches, two embracing figures in the trunk, roots and green aurora sky.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Tree of embracing figures on an upper arm sleeve

Realism · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

Three views of a full upper arm sleeve show a large tree whose trunk and branches frame two embracing figures, with exposed roots spreading down the arm and green leaves at the base. The shading is smooth and detailed, with bark texture and light branches set against a teal and green aurora sky scattered with stars. The colour is rich and saturated, with blues and greens in the background and warm browns in the wood and figures.

Realism Upper arm Shoulder Tree Root Couple Sky Star Lightning Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

You have heard the story about the oak at the top of Coldharbour Lane all your life, usually from Mrs Pardoe, who tells it to make the children stand still. The tree was planted the year the parish stopped burning its women, she says, and it has been holding up the sky ever since. Tonight the sky seems to agree with her. Green light rolls over the moor in long unhurried ribbons, and your sister keeps tugging your sleeve because the vicar is waving from the gate and the bride is already late.

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Ada and Tom want their vows said under the branches, where the roots have heaved the lane into knuckled ridges and the ivy climbs as high as a man's shoulder. Tom's grandfather cut their initials into the bark sixty years ago, and the letters have grown fat and soft with moss, as if they belong to someone else now. Ada steps up onto the ridge in her borrowed shoes, laughing, one hand flat on his chest as though she is checking he is real.

When the vicar asks who gives this woman, nobody answers. Then thunder cracks without any rain, a sound like a limb splitting, and every fork of the oak lights up white at once. Ada gasps. Tom does not let go. Above them the stars come out in a rush, and for one long breath the old trunk looks as if it is leaning down to listen.

Afterwards, when the lanterns are lit and the fiddler has started up, you find the two of them still standing by the roots with their foreheads touching. The aurora has settled into the valley like a green river. Mrs Pardoe, passing with a cake tin, says the oak has always liked a wedding. You do not tell her you saw it lean.