Upper arm tattoo of a brown twig pentacle wrapped in green leaves and vines, with the words Blessed Be in black script beneath it.

Twig pentacle with leaves and Blessed Be script

Botanical · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A pentacle made of brown, twig-like branches sits at the centre of the design, with green leaves and curling vines wrapping around its points. Black outlines and shading give the twigs some depth, and the black script reading Blessed Be sits below the star. The composition is centred on a plain area of skin, with a dark garment and a red surface visible at the edges.

Botanical Lettering Upper arm Twig Leaves Vine Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell, the hazel came down on Tuesday, the whole bank behind the mill, and I kept the straightest whips for myself. You'll laugh, but I wove a star with them. Five long wands, each one bent to meet the next, the cut ends tucked under so it holds without a single nail. Dad would have called it daft, though he always did say a gate wants something more than a latch and hope.

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The leaves were still on the tips when I started, a bit wilted from the cold, and I wound honeysuckle through the points as I went, snipping the stems with the kitchen shears so the sap wouldn't run down my wrists. It took the whole of Wednesday. By dusk my fingers were striped green and brown, and the star sat on the crossbar of the orchard gate like something a travelling tinker had left behind.

Mr Ashby came up the lane on Thursday with his collar turned against the wind. He stood a long while looking at it and asked me, quite gently, what I meant by it. I told him I meant the frost would keep out of the blossom, and he said that was a fair thing to mean and he'd not take it down. He touched his hat brim to it on the way past, which I think is the nearest a rector gets to a blessing on a Thursday.

Come at Easter and you'll see what I mean. The honeysuckle has gone through every point, and the star now wears its green like a sleeve. The blossom on the Bramleys is holding. Blessed be, Nell, and burn this if it embarrasses you. Your loving sister, Margaret.