The second half of the 90s was running when I first entered in the Lezíria Farm. At that time, this rural property, acquired by a couple of friends of my parents, delighted both the young and old members of the clan. The very close relationship between our families made Lezíria a regular and special destination for me. Inside the main house, the nucleus of the Farm, as well as on the surrounding land, I shared numerous joys and sorrows while witnessing the growth of the younger generation.
Suddenly, my visits to Lezíria came to an end in late 2013, with the passing of its patriarch. The soul of the house was extinguished, plunging the entire space into a long period of mourning, decline and uncertainty. I closed a chapter, believing it was impossible to stay overnight and enjoy Lezíria, as I used to do in the past. However, nothing in this life is taken for granted…
Destiny took care of proving that truth to me. Last summer, in 2021, I returned to the Farm by the hand of the same friendships that had previously connected me to it. In a mix of joy and some apprehension, I revived memories as I observed a Lezíria without the constant care of human hand. In the main house, empty of the voices of the past, I broke spells as my ghosts faded away. Day after day, the joint efforts of those who remain attached to this place, filled the darkness with an increasingly invigorating luminosity.
Since then, I have maintained the lost assiduity, allowing myself to be enveloped by the new rituals. The Farm is gradually evolving, imbued with a lighter atmosphere that undermines the recurring pains. At the same time that I share emotions and experiences with those who welcome me, I am documenting the human warmth that resurfaces here. Unable to predict the future, I often remain silent, by the large window of the house, contemplating what surrounds me. A smile appears on my face, revealing the hope in this Lezíria that is reborn.