Storms, monarchs, and 71 dragonflies: Notes from the Oak Savanna
Published September 2, 2026
Storm coverage recorded approximately 1:41 a.m.–2:00 a.m.
By Lisa Loucks-Christenson | Rochester Sun Times News
The severe thunderstorm rolled through between 1:41 a.m. and 2:00 a.m., bringing winds over 70 mph. I was inside, documenting Neptune’s arrival. Anytime now, he or she will be a monarch. The storms seemed fitting with his transformation.
I had barely finished my outdoor and indoor documentaries when the winds picked up. Earlier, I’d hand-fed all the “baby dragons ” (dragonfly nymphs) and photographed the monarchs changing. I noticed Neptune will be sporting wings in the next 12–18 hours. Two more are waiting for release once the storms pass. They may join the others the Oak Savanna appears to be hosting again this year—too small to call it a migration, but certainly a gathering spot.
Neptune, the monarch I’ve tended since egg (July 14), will be free soon—along with Earth, Galaxy, and possibly a dragonfly. He’s emerged, but with a short wing, something I’ve never seen before. I’m trying to teach him indoor flying, but he just spins on my finger like a gymnast on the uneven bars. (I was equally good at the uneven bars in my time—but I wasn’t trying to fly.)
I knew storms were on the horizon, which is why I held Galaxy and Earth back. I didn’t expect the winds we had. I’ve put together a compilation of clips from this morning’s storm—about five minutes of raw footage: wind howling, my work, and words spoken through the storm. It’s part of my coverage for the Rochester Sun Times News, with longer pieces reserved for the Oak Savanna Winds Films archives.
71 dragonflies over ten months, and the hard art of letting go
Over the last ten months, I’ve cared for 71 dragonflies. Many have already emerged and flown; others died trying, or were caught by predators—mice that figured out how to open their lids or tents during emergence. I don’t have 71 in my care now; only a smaller number remain as I move into the winter season.
Right now, there are only two more dragonflies waiting for wings this year. The rest will be part of the Winter Stay Documentary, which now includes at least ten I’ve gathered already. As the weather shifts, more are expected and will be brought in to save them, best I can.
I’ve never found anything as difficult to raise as dragonflies in numbers, solo, in optimal care. They’ve died choking on food, mid-shed (most common), and on emergence—even in a ⅓ inch of water. Crippled wings, predators, cannibalism, temperature shifts from heat to air: I’ve learned a great deal about them. I’m still not an expert. They have taught me how to tend, raise, protect, guard (which is different than protect in a different way), feed, entertain, nurture—and the hardest of all: let go.
Want your heart ripped out? Let one go. Those big eyes do it every time.
Jo, the dragonfly that emerged the other day, recognized the red fork and grabbed at it. I was able to feed him several bloodworms, and he drank the honey/fruit mix I make for them. He has a short wing, and his flight isn’t where it should be. A nose dive outside would be a one-minute grab for a bird or mouse, so he may have to remain captive while I work with him to get his flight on course. He trusts me. I’ve raised him since November 2025, when he was less than a ¼ inch—just a little bigger than the “Winter Stay” babies I’m tending now.
71 dragonflies over ten months. Most family say no one else would do this for them. It’s taken an incredible amount of time. I did it to learn. I did it to write their stories. I did it because I promised them I would.
The Oak Savanna story: 15 years in my ownership, 18 in the family
Tonight, my lens finished on the storms. Tomorrow, I’ll turn it on the damages. The Oak Savanna story—15 years in my ownership, 18 in the family. I don’t know if anyone has ever studied a place like this before and documented it as I have. I hope it leaves something of value to the history of Rochester, to Olmsted County.
I’ll keep you posted through the books, reports, and blogs.
—Lisa
About the Author
Lisa Loucks-Christenson is the founder, publisher, and sole journalist for the Rochester Sun Times News, an independent, non-partisan news publication serving Rochester and Olmsted County. A multimedia journalist, author, illustrator, and documentarian, she focuses on nature, wildlife, investigative reporting, and regional storytelling.
She is also the creator of Oak Savanna Winds Films, a long-term documentary project chronicling 15 years of ownership (18 years in the family) of an Oak Savanna property, its wildlife, storms, and ecological changes. Her work spans books, serialized fiction, nature documentaries, comics, and educational content, all produced independently through Lisa Loucks-Christenson Publishing, LLC.