Nailsworth roofs, specifically
Why Nailsworth roofs green up in the valleys faster than the hilltops.
Nailsworth sits in the bottom of a W — the point where the Avening valley and the Woodchester valley meet and pour together into the Nailsworth Stream. Those are steep, wooded, north-and-east-shaded Cotswold valleys, and they do two things to a roof. They trap moisture, so the air down in the valley bottom sits damp for far longer than it does up on open ground; and they shade the lower pitches for much of the day, so the sun never quite dries a roof out. It's the same geography that powered the town — fourteen-odd cloth and brewing mills strung along the brooks that feed the stream — and it's the same geography that feeds moss, lichen and algae onto the slates above them.
You see it most clearly when you compare two houses a few hundred yards apart. A roof down by the stream in the old mill core, or one of the cottages tucked under the tree-line on the valley sides at Watledge or Newmarket, will carry a thick, wet mat of moss on its north slope while a house up on the exposed hilltops above — out towards Forest Green and the New Lawn — stays relatively clear. The wooded, damp valley bottom is the moss's natural home, and Nailsworth has more of that terrain than almost any town its size in the county.
The roofs themselves make it worse, not better. The historic core is Cotswold stone slate and old Welsh slate — porous, hand-laid, and exactly the kind of surface that holds water in the laps and gives spores something to root into. Those slates are also fragile, which rules out the quick, brutal answer of blasting them with a pressure washer: force water into porous stone slate and you split laps, lift slates and drive damp into a building that has stayed sound for two centuries by shedding water cleanly. The right answer here is the slow one — lift the moss off by hand, soft-wash, and treat with biocide so the regrowth doesn't come straight back.
Out on the fringes it's a different roof but the same valley. The newer housing around Forest Green and the estate edges runs to concrete interlocking tile, which is tougher than stone slate but textured enough that spores grip it, and up on the exposed hilltops the wind and weather come at it hard. Whether it's a listed mill conversion in the conservation area or a 1980s semi on the hill, the cause is the same Nailsworth-valley damp, and so is the fix: get the growth off properly, then treat the surface so it stays off.
One thing that's specific to Nailsworth is how varied a single short street can be. The town climbs out of the valley bottom on steep lanes, so within one row you can have a tall stone mill cottage, a Victorian villa and a more recent infill, each at a slightly different height, angle and exposure, each greening at a different rate. That's why we survey every roof properly rather than quoting a number down the phone — a roof we can see from the road tells us almost nothing about the pitch tucked behind it in the shade.