On a Malibu horse ranch with young hearts, old souls and a wardrobe sourced entirely from Depop

Where is there? That place, where we know corners and crannies so clearly with our eyes closed.

Sunken between mountains, there’s an aptitude for stillness — still water, sunken sunlight, solid ground. The valley’s bowl shape, we’ve always found, is the perfect arena to test the expanses of our orbit. It goes in circles but never in the same place twice. It goes up and up and up until we’re just sky. A single chandelier mimics a close star in the barn. It swings and shivers when we come through, potent with the energy of every step we take. We run barefoot in the grass as if it propels us up and out. Wherever we fall, we know the ground will bend to our whim, leaving only an imprint shaped like the swirl of a piggy’s tail.

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We burrow ourselves in wood chips, to transubstantiate and awaken. Eyes wide, we dress ourselves in worn plaid Vivienne Westwood pants and Chloe tanks, adorning them with hay and yellow groundsel. We remove our grip from the corrals, taking some of the paint with us in flight. An Undercover cape reflects the blues of lakes and lush green trees. Before taking off, we place our feet firmly in the ground, our Prada boots just a little dusty, reminding us of where we left. The chickens roll their eyes at our antics, but they can’t help but join us anyway. They’ve seen it all before: ancient dirt under our toenails, scraped-up knees and laughter that echoes through the canyons.

Yearning for a breath of new air so crisp it cuts our throat, we inhale deeply and catch new notes in the tack room. Today, the leather smells sweet.

We read the constellations in Roma’s fur, a guide map populated with every lifetime she’s ever lived. Another big sister, a teacher with eyes searching for a likened soul. Her wispy mane floating in the breeze transmits hushed secrets. The frequency jolts us upon receipt. Just go, we hear in the whir. Sometimes, we dream of infinite versions of Roma chasing herself. Each one faster than the last. We wake up before they meet. We wonder if ideas of us help lull her to sleep. Curls in the wind, limbs lighter than air, restless in pure pasture. Are we a familiar comfort?

With nothing but rolling greens and super blooms turning to us on the periphery, there’s no end to where we’ll go. Who we’ll become.

We see it. We have always dreamt of here.

Lily-Rose wears Comme des Garçons striped long sleeve and vintage varsity tee, 2000s Miss Sixty sheer tulle a-line skirt, Adidas X Wales Bonner socks and Prada shoes, all from Depop.

Lily-Rose and Donovan with Jon Hamm and Beanie Bacon.

Donovan, with Roma, wears 1970s-1980s Christian Dior sunglasses, FW2001 Chloé tank top, 1970s micro minishorts, Prada shoes and vintage gloves, all from Depop.

Lily-Rose, left, with White Chick, wears Nine West coat, 2004 Junya Watanabe Comme des Garçons blazer, La Perla micro minishorts, Christian Dior leather gloves and 2008-2010 Vivienne Westwood x Melissa rubber flats, all from Depop; Champion X Stanford T-shirt, stylist’s own, sourced from Depop. Donovan wears 1950s distressed white T-shirt, AD2004 Tricot Comme des Garçons wool midi skirt and vintage American flag Converse sneakers, all from Depop; vintage Jil Sander tweed coat and Givenchy tie, stylist’s own, sourced from Depop.

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Dreams of Depop ranch

Manon Macasaet / For The Times

Lily-Rose, with Kailas, wears Morgan de Toi Napoleon jacket and 1995 Vivienne Westwood plaid bondage pants, both from Depop; Gucci by Tom Ford top, stylist’s own, sourced from Depop. Donovan wears Undercover coat, 2001 Gucci by Tom Ford swim top and 2000s Hiroko Koshino sheer black midi skirt, all from Depop; L.L. Bean trapper hat, stylist’s own, sourced from Depop. Below: Lily-Rose and Donovan with Savi.