Fine line black ink botanical tattoo of a lavender-like sprig, leaves and a round flower head on the outer forearm.

Wildflower sprig on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small sprig of wildflowers with spiked lavender-like stems, several leaves and a round dotted flower head is tattooed on a pale arm. The linework is thin and single-needle style, with the flower head shaded in fine dots. The image is black and white, with the design set against a plain white background.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Lavender Wildflower Leaves Sprig

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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

Mind the step, that one's loose, it has been loose since your grandfather's day and nobody has had the sense to fix it. Now sit. The dough needs another ten minutes under the cloth, and so do you, by the look of you.

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There was a girl came up from the Teign valley the winter the mill flooded, carrying a crate of lavender stalks on her back and a dandelion clock tucked in her collar because she said it was the only thing that had not yet given up. Her mother had sent her to sell the bundles at the back door of every bakery in Exeter. Nobody bought lavender in February. Old Mrs Pellow took pity on her and gave her a stool by the ovens, and the girl sat there with her knees up, pulling the dried heads off and dropping them in a jar for the loaves.

Here is the thing about lavender in bread. It does not taste of much. It tastes of the idea of summer, which is worth more at five in the morning when your fingers are blue with cold. The girl said so, and Mrs Pellow said that was the sort of thing you could only say at five in the morning, and then they both laughed until the flour got in their eyes.

When the girl left in spring she went with a sprig of wild mint and a leaf of sorrel folded in brown paper, and the dandelion clock was still in her collar, bare as a bald man's crown. Mrs Pellow kept the jar. Forty years on, I still find a stalk in the corner of the tin when I clear it out. Mind the step now. Fetch the tray. Dawn's on the windowsill and the loaves will not wait for us.