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Virginia steered the Honda off of the main dirt road and we entered a smaller sunken dirt road, dusty and flanked with weeds leading into a dense pine forest. The crosses commonly seen on the side of Lithuanian country roads are a testament to the suffering the country endured in the twentieth century. She maneuvered the Honda onto one of the banks, flanking the road and popped on the hazards. Dalia came rushing back into the parlor, her arms laden with a bowl of fresh-picked cherries from the orchard, white farmer’s cheese, and plates of rye bread and homemade meats. Petronele came out of the bedroom adjacent to the parlor dressed in a trim light blue cotton blouse. The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and the outcome of WWII sealed the fate of Lithuania, as well as most of Eastern Europe, for half a century. Petronele paused a moment, then said,  “Or, other liaisons would bring us letters from three kilometers in that direction,” she pointed vaguely in the direction of the window behind me that had a view to the garden.
Soviet reacquisitions of farmers' produce and livestock was not as consensual as this propaganda painting suggests. Almost unconsciously Petronele began reciting the words to partisan songs, saying them as though they were a magical incantation, a prayer. We stood and walked outside into the yard, Petronele leading us toward the shrine, a simple wooden box with a pointed roof nailed to a maple tree.
We paid our respects at the shrine and Virginia and I said good-bye to Petronele and Dalia, thanking them for their hospitality, the delicious country lunch, for their stories. I nodded my agreement, glancing over my shoulder at the two women now disappearing in the cloud of dust the Honda was kicking up. Laima Vince, a New York native, is a Lithuanian-American non-fiction and children’s book author, Fulbright scholar in creative writing at Vilnius University, journalist, memoirist and translator. Views expressed in the opinion section are never those of the Baltic Reports company or the website’s editorial team as a whole, but merely those of the individual writer.
VIDEO NEWSTRAKAI, Lithuania — If you want to understand what makes the people of the Baltic state tick, delve into their rich folk music. For years, we had been mystified by the Stevie Wonder album of nearly the same name, because the movie was nowhere to be found. Time-lapse photography documents the pain and joy plants experience and how they communicate it.
The book was the basis for the 1979 documentary of the same name directed by Walon Green and featuring a soundtrack by Stevie Wonder, later released as Journey through the Secret Life of Plants.
I opened the passenger side door and found myself standing face to face with a simple wooden cross nailed onto a pine tree.
She turned and offered me her first pickings, a palm full of tiny red berries, vitamin bombs as she called them. Dalia led Virginia and I through the pretty gardens of flowers, fruits, and vegetables, narrating along the way, pausing and inviting us inside the house. She sat down in an armchair at the end of the coffee table, beside me, and asked, “What do you need to know?



I was a rysininke, a liaison woman, for General Zemaitis for two years before I had to leave home and go into hiding. All the evidence seemed to indicate that this house had been used as a stabas, as headquarters.
For a moment, she was lost within herself, speaking the words, feeling their rhythms on her tongue, savoring them. As we were getting into the car, Dalia came running over with a Tupperware box filled with more fresh cherries from the orchard. Now, with the power of the internet, we have discovered this fascinating unreleased and rare movie, The Secret Life of Plants, which features a mysterious soundtrack by Stevie Wonder. The book, which is generally regarded as a pseudoscientific work, discusses the alleged unusual phenomena regarding plants such as plant sentience, as well as alternative philosophy and alternative farming methods. The film made heavy use of time-lapse photography (where plants are seen growing in a few seconds, creepers reaching out to other plants and tugging on them, mushrooms and flowers popping open, etc.). Bean has long been a name synonymous with outdoor gear, including backpacks used for hiking in the great outdoors. Virginia had grown up foraging the forests for strawberries, currants, blueberries, kiskio kopustai and other goodies. In the middle of expansive open fields stood a small wooden house with flecks of gray and yellow paint speckling its horizontal boards. It made sense, they were both about the same age and of the same experience, country girls who’d gone off to Vilnius to study and had stayed in the city.
Though, it’s been so many years now, I don’t remember everything, and besides, I don’t think I was really all that important. In a clay vase at the base of the tree, Petronele had left a bouquet of white flowers for the school teacher partisan who had fallen here fifty years ago.
The moment she saw a berry bush or berries underfoot she dove for the bushes, hungry for the natural vitamins they provided.
Obviously, at one time the house had been gray-painted, then yellow-painted, but now it was simply worn by the sun, begging for a fresh coat of paint.
On the opposite wall hung a multitude of family photos, most of them contemporary and in color, a few black-and-white. I wondered what Petronele, who had survived her missions carrying letters and packages, must have thought when she’d heart the news.
Someone had left a bouquet of fresh pink roses inside the fence at the foot of the pine tree. Today’s children no longer know the joy of foraging, the joy of discovery of a good patch of berries or herbs.
Gray stone slabs led to the front door, which was flung open, I hoped, in expectation of our visit. Some local people, a man and a woman, knew the time he would be coming through the pine forest on his bicycle and they lay waiting for him alongside the road. Middle school children carry a heavy load, making it important to have a durable way to easily carry it all.


Virginia had told me when she was growing up foraging in the spring and summer was a way of building up your strength after a long cold winter of eating only preserved fruits and vegetables. The corner of the room, just in front of where we were sitting, was covered over by a white masonry heater and white ceramic tiles.
They were all together in that room right there,” Petronele said, pointing to the room she’d emerged from earlier with her fresh blouse. My friends changed my documents to the name Jociute and first they sent me to pose as a student at a tractor driver’s school.
As we pulled into the dirt driveway, a large black dog penned up to our left barked viciously while a cute small furry mutt roaming free greeted us, wagging its tail. And I think, oh times were hard, but I felt good that I was doing something good that made a difference. Two women, one older and pleasant in appearance with short cropped brown curly hair and large blue eyes and the other in her late 40s stout with short brown hair, walked towards the car to greet us.
I graduated and the newspaper wanted to do a story about a girl who’d learned how to drive a tractor. Years later, when I came home, a neighbor said to me, ‘I saw your photograph in the newspaper.’ ‘No, no, that wasn’t me,’ I said. After it got hot at the tractor school, the director of the school sent me to the Vilnius region.
A  I learned something from every man I met or exchanged emails with, and Lou taught me a few words in Spanish.A  Ole! We can take a little walk, maybe get our feet wet, and then lie on a blanket and listen to the waves. I do the same thing myself, when the mood strikes.A  And how about this for being an "in tune with women" kinda guy?A  A few days after I had ordered myself 2 new green dresses and several in black to add to my collection from a mail order company named Newport News, he sent an email asking:A  "So, what are you wearing right now?
A  For Christ Sake!!A  How about saving the Taxpayers a buck?A  In addition to that $6 million you've already blown by hovering and covering me, and scheduling a proper Face to Base meeting in your office; at my convenience? Dramatic, but no drama.A  Short black skirt, or long black dress?A  Heels or boots?A  Camo, or commando? Until then, as in the end,there is much more to come.A A A  Once Upon a Time, a little mushroom popped through the moss covered ground of the Southeast Alaska Rainforest. Grant, Attorney at Law, Juneau, AK From Wedding Bells to Tales to Tell: The Affidavit of Eric William Swanson, my former spouse AFFIDAVIT OF SHANNON MARIE MCCORMICK, My Former Best Friend THE AFFIDAVIT OF VALERIE BRITTINA ROSE, My daughter, aged 21 THE BEAGLE BRAYS! HELL'S BELLS: THE TELLS OF THE ELVES RING LOUD AND CLEAR IDENTITY THEFT, MISINFORMATION, AND THE GETTING THE INFAMOUS RUNAROUND Double Entendre and DoubleSpeak, Innuendos and Intimidation, Coercion v Common Sense, Komply (with a K) v Knowledge = DDIICCKK; Who's Gunna Call it a Draw?



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