In the winter, my garden turns to mush. And in that mush exists micro ecologies. Take the tiny “forests” of moss. We have moss in abundance here. Moss in the limb of a tree peony, growing like a miniature forest.
An entire forest of moss growing on the floor of my garden, tiny little moss trees reaching for the heavens.
An uncut, unlogged forest of moss in different stages of development, nestled onto the hard surface of a single rock.
The pine needles look like fallen timber, the moss looks like the green canopy of a woodland and the tall red spores look like… Look like some forest in Dr. Seuss’ “Horton Hears A Who.”
Especially with the tiny drops of rain water clinging like strange blossoms to the red stalks.
The hollow of a large rock propped up in my garden looks like some small “lake” in the Cascade Mountains where the salamanders swim, with a log jam of pine needles on the down-stream end. Prehistoric, even.
Jaci Dawn 
Exquisite. It really does look like a perfect, miniature primeval forest.
Aye, does look like a miniature forest. The only thing missing is your “faeries”….but they were probably staying inside where it was warm?