Through a dim, wood-paneled hallway lit with multicolored paper lanterns, one exits through a paper-screen door into a large square fairy garden. Vines climb the walls, making it feel hidden and perhaps ancient or timeless. A moss-lined stone path rings the outside, around a circular man-made waterway that holds a small paddleboat for perhaps two passengers, a large blue paper lantern hanging off the bow that glows with a mysterious internal light.

In the center is an island, covered in all kinds of delicate-colored flowers in a variety of soft hues—Japanese roses, lilies, gladioli, peonies, growing so wildly that one might miss the modest stone shrine, where stands a statue of a small fairy girl. Here, it is always just twilight, little colored motes of light like fireflies or fairies floating through the air.