In winter, we offered sleigh rides through the white wonderland.
When feeling foolhardy and adventurous, our whole crew traipsed over the mountain in snowshoes—six black and white Border Collie muzzles and tails in tow, just visible above the snow.
There were no days off on the ranch. Here were life and death without retouching, stark and beautiful, exciting and inspiring, terrifying and sad.
The unabashed mountain living was a long way from the glow of LA and our stucco house on the Pacific Palisades’ bluffs.
During the quiet times, I wrote a series of journals, perfected playing the harmonium and chanting in Sanskrit.