Sometimes you hear the noise before you know. A sort of…scritch-scratch, like a violin bow dragging over pinecones. Other times it’s the smell. Not quite dead animal, but like meat that wishes it was. Raccoons again. Or squirrels. Or both. Lord only knows if they’re unionized. That time in February? Yeah, the cold one where…
So let’s say you’re standing there, bare feet in dirt, staring up at your hut or resort cabana or maybe some half-forgotten beach shack that’s trying real hard to not fall over — and the thatch roof, well, it’s gone green. Not jungle-green in a good way, no. That weird slimy swamp tone creeping across…
There’s this funny thing with cool roofs — you put one on, all bright and reflective, thinking you’re playing the long game with heat reduction and all that green stuff. But give it a couple summers. Or some messy bird seasons. Maybe a rooftop HVAC sneeze. And next thing you know? That once dazzling white…
Some things look better when they age. Clay tile? Not always. Especially when the color goes from “sun-baked Mediterranean” to “dull brick that lost a bar fight.” You squint at the roof, or patio, or wherever those tiles are sunbathing, and think, “Weren’t you shinier last summer?” Maybe it’s the glare playing tricks. Or maybe—just…
So yeah. You spend a summer thinking your green roof is kinda just… chilling up there. Doing its fuzzy green carpet thing. You watered it a bit. Maybe not religiously. Who did, though? It was 107 degrees. Then one day you go up and notice — wait. Why’s that edge curling like a bad sticker?…
