lichen-stained

“You certainly have a fine big house and garden here, Mr. Rinn,” Mulcahy said, moving towards the open French windows and looking out across the wide flight of lichen-stained stone steps leading down to the garden below.

The Priest Gerard O’Donovan 2011

Certain names came up again and again on the lichen-stained headstones.

The Lampshade Mark Jacobson 2010

Below the level of their summits the masonry was lichen-stained and mildewed, for the sun never pierced that moaning cloud of blue-black vegetation.

Two on a Tower 2006

He sat down under the shade of a knot of beech trees, overlooking that ill-omened tarn, which we have often mentioned, upon a lichen-stained rock, his chin resting on his clenched hand, his elbow on his knee, and the heel of his other foot stamping out bits of the short, green sod.

Wylder's Hand 2003

That grey old house, with high lichen-stained roof and narrow windows -- where but in sunny France could one see its like?

The Daughters of Danaus Mona Caird

It was a scene never to be forgotten; but it was, after all, a scene appealing only to certain temperaments: to those who delight in the highest forms of architecture; in walls time-honoured and lichen-stained; who find beauty and charm ever in the blue sky and the waving trees; a charm that is chiefly spiritual.

The Argosy Vol. 51, No. 5, May, 1891 Various

I had been leaning over the lichen-stained wall of my wild garden waiting to catch sight of him as he left the ragged end of the straggling village.

A Village of Vagabonds

Deep moats, lichen-stained walls, and hoary forts, invest Solo with a feudal aspect, and the grim tower of Vostenberg menaces the Kraton with bristling cannon, reminding the hereditary Ruler of his subserviency to modern Holland, for only a melancholy illusion of past glory remains to him.

Through the Malay Archipelago Emily Richings

Or the kiss she gave him as they stood looking out over the lichen-stained wall of the courtyard to the fairy marsh beyond, still and sublime -- wedded to the open sea at high tide -- like a mirror of polished silver, its surface ruffled now and then by the splash of some incoming duck.

A Village of Vagabonds

The morning after, I was leaning over the lichen-stained wall of my garden caressing the white throat of the Essence of Selfishness, the events of my night of service still in my mind, when I saw the coast patrol coming across the marsh in double file.

A Village of Vagabonds