Category: Concord, Mass.

“The shot heard round the world”

Today is April 19, 2025. Probably that doesn’t mean anything to you, unless you’re a U.S. history geek, or unless you grew up in Concord or Lexington, Massachusetts. But today is the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Lexington and Concord.

While both the town of Concord and the town of Lexington have annual celebrations, with parades and reenactments, this year they both arranged special celebrations for the 250th anniversary. Fifty years ago, on April 19, 1975, I was in the parade in Concord, marching with my Boy Scout troop. Since I’m pretty sure I won’t be around for the 300th anniversary, I decided that I really had to attend this year’s celebration.

I wanted to watch the reenactment of the battle at the North Bridge, and I knew just where I wanted to stand — in the formal garden at the visitor center of Minuteman National Historical Park. From there you have a panoramic view of the North Bridge and the road down which the Minutemen and militia companies marched to confront His Majesty’s troops.

I should have read the information about the day more carefully. There was no reenactment this year. I was a bit disappointed. Still, I had a marvelous view of the crowds that gathered to watch the ceremonies, and the main events of the ceremonies themselves — the Concord Minutemen firing a salute from the bridge, and the 21 gun salute from a field on the other side of the river.

A panoramic photograph of the crowd watching the ceremonies.
The view from the formal garden, with the North Bridge in the distance.

The crowd looked a little thin to me; there were not nearly as many people as I had expected. While we were waiting for the ceremonies to begin, I wound up talking with the people on either side of me. To my left was a man from Albany, N.Y., who had attended the reenactment of Paul Revere’s arrival in lexington the night before, spent the night in his car, watched the reenactment of the Battle of Lexington at sunrise, then taken the shuttle to Concord. On the other side of me were a couple who live in Concord, who were kind of interested in the 18th century historical garb that several of the parade units wore; I was able to tell them where they could obtain 18th C. garb, but warned them that it could be expensive.

Congresswoman Lori Trahan and Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey were the only two state or national politicians to show up. Both of them gave good brief speeches, both of which emphasized how important resisting tyranny was in 1775, and still is today. I thought it was a little disrespectful that neither of our U.S. Senators managed to put in an appearance. I’m not surprised that President Donald Trump didn’t show up — though President Gerald Ford showed up in 1975 — but then Trump is not especially patriotic, and has a fairly weak understanding of U.S. history. It’s probably just as well that Trump didn’t show up, because he wouldn’t have been happy with the remarks made by Healey or Trahan, nor with the signs carried by some of the spectators.

A man holding a home-made sign reading "No Kings Then, No Kings Now."
A spectator watching the ceremonies at the North Bridge.

Most of the signs that I saw opposed the tyranny of kings. We didn’t want King George in 1775, and we don’t want a king now.

After the ceremonies at the North Bridge concluded, I made my way to the center of town, so I could watch the parade. On my way there, I saw more homemade signs opposing the tyranny of kings. Most of the slogans I’ve seen opposing the Trump administration have been variations on “Hands Off.” I much prefer variations on the “No Kings” slogan, because it gets to the root of what bugs me about the Trump administration — that he’s acting like a king, and all his supporters are OK with that. But we fought the Revolution to get rid of kings — we don’t want any more kings, not now, not ever.

A sign at the side of a street which reads "No Kings. Been there, done that."
Sign along the road into Concord center.

This year, the reviewing stand for the parade was set up in Monument Square, right in front of Town Hall. The units that put on performances — the fife and drum corps, the bands — always put on a show in front of the reviewing stand. It was crowded there. I moved down the street and stood in front of First Parish of Concord, the Unitarian Universalist church in town (the church the Minutemen belonged to). It was still pretty crowded there, but at least I could see the parade.

Crowds along Lexington Road in Concord, watching the parade.
The beginning of the parade.

Ever since COVID, I’m not a big fan of crowds. So I walked further along the parade route to where there weren’t that many people.

The Carlisle, Mass., Minutemen.

One of the flag-bearers from one of the Minuteman units was carrying a sign stating his opposition to kings. While this was not historically accurate, it seemed very much in keeping with the sentiments the 18th century Minutemen would have held.

Person in Minuteman outfit carrying a flag, and with a small sign saying "No Kings."
The Stow, Mass., Minutemen.

Again, it’s a good thing Trump the wanna-be-king didn’t come. Popular sentiment was definitely against him. It would have been as if King George showed up in Massachusetts in 1775. Massachusetts then and now is one of the leaders against tyranny. While there were Massachusetts Tories in 1775, and while there are Massachusetts Trump-ites in 2025, in both eras the majority of Massachusetts residents were and are Patriots who don’t want kings lording it over them.

Speaking of Patriots, I was also pleased to see the Town of Concord Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Commission marching in the parade. They carried a banner that read, “Building a Welcoming Community.” I’m old enough to remember the mini-race riot that took place at Concord Carlisle High School on the last day of school in 1978 (I was a senior that year, so I had already graduated and didn’t see the riot myself, but I heard about it). I’d like to pretend that we solved all those race problems and that now everything is hunky-dory, but I guess I have a grimmer view of human nature than that. Human beings find it way too easy to hate one another, so we actually do need organizations that keep us from hating on other people.

Group of people carrying a banner.
The Concord, Mass., DEI Commission marching in the parade.

One last photo — this was one of my favorite units in the parade, the Assabet Village Minutemen. This unit is from Maynard, Mass., which wasn’t a separate town in 1775, it was a village known as Assabet Village. I like that they’re not wearing a uniform, which seems more historically accurate. I like that a couple of the men are wearing knit caps, not the stereotypical tricorn hat — again, this diversity of headgear seems more historically accurate. The Minutemen and militia of 1775 were ordinary citizens; they were not yet a trained army — and I like that the Assabet Village Minutemen capture this important aspect of the Battle of Concord.

Men and women in 18th century dress marching together.
The Assabet Village (Maynard, Mass.) Minutemen.

It makes me want to go out and buy myself a suit of 18th century clothing. Not that I can afford it, but it’s fun to think about.

Loon at Walden

This morning I walked from Wright Woods conservation land past Walden Pond to Goose Pond. On my way back to the car, I passed by the main beach at Walden. It was a warm sunny day, so as you’d expect the beach was crowded with humanity.

And there, past the buoys that mark the area that the lifeguards watch, was a Common Loon (Gavia immer) diving underwater, presumably for small fish or some other underwater food.

It was surprising to see a loon at Walden Pond in July — twenty years ago when I lived in the town of Concord, you might see a loon during migration, but I don’t remember ever seeing one during summer breeding season. It may be that the resurgence of the beaver population in the area has changed the landscape enough that loons now have adequate habitat to breed; although that’s purely speculation on my part.

Another highlight of my walk past Walden Pond worth mentioning is the Thoreau Society bookstore. They focus on Thoreau of course, but they also stock an excellent selection of books relating to the other nineteenth century Concord authors — certainly the best selection of publications relating to the Concord authors that I’ve seen. While in the store, I chatted with Corinne Smith, a librarian and author. She told me that the “Thoreau Edition,” published by Princeton University Press and currently based at the University of California Santa Barbara, has released preliminary versions of the journals from 1854 to the end of Thoreau’s life (the “Thoreau Edition” has already published print versions of the journals from 1831 to 1854).

More Odonates

In among the errands I had to run today, I managed to find time around noon to take a walk at the Concord unit of Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge. It was hot and humid with a light breeze (8-11 mph), enough wind to keep the temperature bearable. The breeze and the time of day meant the birds were keeping under cover, so I spent half an hour looking at damselflies and dragonflies (Odonates).

I managed to get close enough to photograph three species reasonably clearly. As I tried to identify those species from photographs, I got introduced to the chalenges of Odonata identification. One species was easy to identify:

The above photograph shows a Common Whitetail (Libellula [Plathemis] lydia), in the Skimmer family (Libellulidae). This was a straightforward identification. According to Blair Nikula et al., A Field Guide to the Dragonflies and Damselflies of Massachusetts, “identification of most species [of Skimmers] is possible in the field based on a combination of body, eye, and wing color and pattern.” And this is a particularly distinctive species.

The next taxon, however, was more difficult. Based on the photo below, I’m willing to place this individual in the genus Enallagma, the Bluets. But I’m not willing to make any determination as to species: “The bluets (Enallagma) … are very difficult to identify without examining the male terminal appendages under a hand lens or loupe” (Nikula et al., p. 31). That would mean capturing the insect with a net, holding it the hand, and examining it; I don’t have an insect net, and, not being particularly coordinated, I’d worry about damaging the insect while trying to examine it.

The next taxon, shown below, was even more difficult. All I’m willing to say is that this individual is in the family Corduliidae, or Emeralds. To take the identification to the level of species, once again I would have needed to capture the insect. According to Nikula et al., “although genera can often be recognized in the field with experience, identification as to species is very difficult, typically requiring in-hand examination of subtle body markings, male terminal appendages, or the female subgenital plate.” I’ll be happy if I ever get good enough to identify the Emeralds to the level of genus.

At this point, I don’t feel the need to make specific identifications of every individual; it’s enough for me to appreciate the unexpected diversity of the Odonates.

Published a day later than the date on the post, due to travel.

Odonates

Just before noon, Abby and I took a walk along the recently-opened Bruce Freeman Rail Trail that runs from Chelmsford, Mass., through Acton. The part of the trail we walked, around the Route 2A crossing, passes through several wetlands, with a few small areas of open water and some nice cattail stands. I was mostly looking (and listening) for birds, and even in the heat of the day there was a nice variety of birds, from Red-winged Blackbirds, Common Yellowthroats, and other swamp-loving birds to forest-nesters like American Robins and Chipping Sparrows. Abby was most interested in the Red Squirrel population. However, it was hot enough that there weren’t enough birds or Red Squirrels to keep us occupied, and we both began noticing insects in the order Odonata (dragonflies and damselflies) along the trail; I do not know much about about Odonates, but it sure looked like there were quite a few different species flying around us.

I am intimidated by the challenges of identifying Odonates; I find them hard to track in my binoculars, and I find it difficult to observe the level of detail required for identification down to the species level (sometimes you have to be able to see the shape of the male sex organs to get a definite identification). But my new camera has a really good zoom lens, and I find it easier to try to make an identification from a photo. I managed to get one reasonably good photo of an Odonate. A tentative identification might place this insect in the Aeshnidae family, or Darners, according to A Field Guide to the Dragonflies and Damselflies of Massachusetts by Blair Nikula et al. (Westborough, Mass.: Massachusetts Division of Fisheries and Wildlife, 2003), p. 69. Unfortunately, the photo does not show how the insect’s eyes come together, a key identification point for this family.

 

Later the same day:

After taking care of some business we had to deal with, Abby and I went for a short walk at Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge, one of our father’s favorite places to go for a walk. I did a little birding, until Abby and I both became fascinated by the dragonflies and damselflies flying around us. I was able to get pretty good photos of a few of these odonates.

The photo above shows, I believe, a young female Eastern Forktail (Ischnura verticalis); I’m fairly certain about the genus, less certain about the species. I’m basing my tentative identification on the species account in Nikula et al., p. 56. And I’m somewhat more confident of this identification because on p. 30, Nikula et al. state that the Eastern Forktail “is probably the most widespread and common odonate in Massachusetts.”

And above is a photo is of an older female of, I think, the same species; older females of this species, according to Nikula et al., “become extensively pruinose blue-gray.”

The photo above shows one of the many Blue Dashers (Pachydiplax longipennis) patrolling the marshes and the edge of the river in Great Meadows. I’m fairly certain of this identification, and this is quite a common dragonfly in Massachusetts.

We also saw a couple of Monarch Butterflies, and an unidentified sulphur butterfly. I didn’t find many birds today, but the spectacular Odonata and Lepidoptera we saw more than made up for the lack of birds.

Beams, Concord, Mass.

Carol and I went to the Robbins House, an early nineteenth century historic house at the Minuteman National Historic Park in Concord, Mass. The house was originally occupied by Susan and Peter Robbins, two grown children of Caesar Robbins, and perhaps by Caesar Robbins himself; I say perhaps, because the history and chronology of the house, as set forth on the Robbins House Web site, is not entirely clear to me. This is not surprising, given how poorly documented African American lives of the early nineteenth century were. What’s important to know is that Caesar was an African American man who won his freedom from slavery by serving in the American Revolution, and the house was occupied by his descendants and extended family until about 1870.

We got an excellent tour from one of the interpreters, who told us a great deal about the people who lived there, and about the social history surrounding the house. But I have to admit what interested me was the construction of the house. I was particularly interested in the exposed roof beams in one room, which included both hand-hewn beams and sawn joists. The sawn lumber was manufactured using a vertical saw, not a rotary saw. Why the mix of hand-hewn and sawn lumber? The hand-hewn beams could have been salvaged from an older structure, something that was often done in the early nineteenth century, or they could have been made for that house; the sawn lumber could have replaced older joists, or they could have been original, though sawn lumber would have been more expensive than hewing one’s own beams. When the house was being restored, there were archaeology, dendrochronology, and other architectural studies were carried out; I hope the non-profit organization that operates the house publishes the tests and tells us why there are two kinds of beams.

West Concord, Mass.

I was working away at the little things that need to be done before we sell dad’s condo, when Carol said something about a Great Blue Heron sitting near the Assabet River. I stopped what I was doing and looked out the window, and sure enough, there it was. Carol said that it had been sitting there for a long time. I got my camera to take a photograph, while saying my photo wouldn’t be much good because you’d need a powerful zoom lens to make the heron appear as anything more than a little speck. Take it anyway, Carol said, you can always give it to the realtor to show what the view is like from the condo.

Assabet River, West Concord, Mass.

“Nature, red in tooth and claw”

The old time Universalists were fond of saying that “God is love.” That statement may be true, but not in any sentimental sappy sense. Many years ago, Tennyson pointed out that he who might place trust in the belief that “God was love indeed / And love Creation’s final law” needed to remember that “Nature, red in tooth and claw … shriek’d against his creed.”

On our walk today, Abs and I saw a butterfly that had lost much of its left hindwing, and a part of its left forewing. We speculated that perhaps a bird or other predator had attacked the butterfly, and somehow it had gotten away, and was still flying:

BlogJul1715b

Living things need to eat, and as often as not they eat other living things in order to stay alive. And this is true of you, too, O human being who think yourself an apex predator: there are plenty of microorganisms and parasites and biting insects who feed on you.