A carpenter will tell you it’s unwise to allow lichen and moss to colonialize a cedar shingle roof. A homeowner will nod in agreement, lamenting the cost, time, and inconvenience of inevitable replacement. A poet will meander the musty meadow glistening within a miniature sylvan garden. An artist will romance the textured tango of crusty blue-green and downy evergreen across shingled-scaled geometry.
![Lichen & Moss on Shingles (Photo: Geo Davis)](https://i0.wp.com/www.rosslynredux.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/06/img_5343-1.jpg?resize=600%2C450&ssl=1)
All four are correct. All four are wise in their disagreement. And I am all four.
The photo above and the photo below offer a late afternoon portrait of lichen and moss contentedly colonizing the alaskan yellow cedar shingle roof on the small shed where we store recycling bins and garbage bins.
![Lichen & Moss on Shingles (Photo: Geo Davis)](https://i0.wp.com/www.rosslynredux.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/06/img_5342-1.jpg?resize=600%2C450&ssl=1)
Located beneath a large arborvitae tree (Thuja occidentalis) where birds gather, these cedar shingles are fertilized by occasional bird droppings and shaded by the evergreen allowing moisture to persist even when weather is hot and dry. The result is an optimal microclimate for lichen and moss.
And while my mind is conflicted — aesthetic merits vs. practical precautions — I allow that the hastening of repairs is justified since this is but a shed. Easy to repair when the time comes. And so fair to look upon. Besides, more than a decade and a half after installation, the roof remains snug and waterproof, so the all four — homeowner, carpenter, poet, and artist gardener — are all tied for a win!
What do you think?