Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries.

The queuña forests in Peru, once covering vast stretches of the mountains, have dwindled to a mere fraction of their former glory, leaving behind a landscape where biodiversity and water security hang in the balance. This ecological collapse has triggered an unforeseen consequence: wild animals, displaced by deforestation, are edging closer to Indigenous communities, sparking conflict between people and predators reports Mongabay contributor James Hall.

The puma, the Peruvian desert cat and the Andean cat have found themselves at odds with humans as they encroach on these shrinking habitats. It’s not the cats themselves that are the root of the problem, as biologist Cindy Hurtado notes, but the loss of their prey. As vizcachas and deer vanish, domestic livestock become the next best meal.

The impact on local livelihoods has been significant, particularly for the women of the Quechua village Licapa. In this community, where men often leave to find work in the cities, women remain behind, caring for children and shepherding small flocks of alpacas, chickens and guinea pigs. The loss of these animals to wildcats is not just a matter of inconvenience; it is a direct threat to the family’s income.

“We thought [the wildcats] were bad animals,” recalls Alicia Ccaico. The traditional response was predictable: The fewer wildcats, the better. Yet, in Licapa, this entrenched view has begun to shift, thanks to a project driven by Indigenous women, led by Quechua biologist Merinia Mendoza Almeida and cat expert Jim Sanderson.

What began as a hesitant experiment has blossomed into a full-fledged movement: Mujeres Quechua por la Conservación. More than 30 women gather at monthly meetings to discuss their experiences, learn about the ecosystem and explore solutions that balance the needs of both humans and wildlife. These gatherings are more than just conservation efforts; they are spaces of empowerment in a society where women’s voices have often been muted.

Simple measures, like fortifying chicken coops, have mitigated conflicts with smaller cats. But tackling the puma problem has required more nuanced strategies, including reducing grazing pressures on the forest. The results have been promising, and the project’s emphasis on Indigenous women has begun to dismantle long-standing patriarchal barriers in the region.

As researcher Rocio Morales points out, this project is a rare example of how integrating Indigenous women into conservation can break down social and political barriers. And the involvement of children in these activities ensures that the seeds of conservation are already being sown in the next generation. In the highlands of Licapa, where the past and future converge, a new chapter is being written — one where coexistence, rather than conflict, might just be the legacy left behind.

This is a summary of: How a fun women’s gathering led to small wildcat conservation in Peru’s Andes

Banner: Puma. Courtesy of Mujeres Quechua por la Conservación.

New Zealand experienced heavy flooding and damage due to Cyclone Tam last week through this weekend.

What started out as a tropical low hovering over the South Pacific Ocean nation of Vanuatu was upgraded to Cyclone Tam on April 14 by the Fiji meteorological service, media reported. The cyclone then moved southeast toward New Zealand, bringing winds of 100 kilometers per hour (60 miles per hour) to northern parts of the country, including to the city of Auckland.

Northland, the northernmost region of New Zealand, saw some 3,500 homes lose power by April 15 as the cyclone downed trees and power lines.

One yacht reportedly sank. Strong winds also left the cruise ship Royal Princess stuck at the Port of Auckland for a few days.

The cyclone’s impact peaked on April 17, with more than 8,700 homes affected in Northland. Cellphone towers were damaged and multiple flights and ferry services were suspended.

The Coromandel Peninsula was isolated for a night after a major highway was flooded, and at least one person had to be rescued after being stuck in a car amid rising waters, local media reported.

By April 18, New Zealand’s MetService said “the worst is over for the northern regions” and reported that Northland experienced winds of up to 160 km/h (100 mph). By then, some places like the Pinnacles, Golden Cross and Glenbervie had been hit with more than 200 millimeters (8 inches) of rain.

However, even as the cyclone was expected to further weaken, heavy rain continued on April 19. In Auckland, around 750 lightning strikes were reported and 150 emergency calls were made, a report said.

Cyclone Tam also caused “wild surf conditions” on beaches in neighboring Australia, media reported, killing at least five people over the weekend.

On April 21, New Zealand’s MetService announced the start of better weather as it posted online: “Cyclone Tam this, Cyclone Tam that, Cyclone Tam to get outta here! While there is still a severe thunderstorm watch over the central North Island, Tam is continuing to weaken and sunshine will become a more common sight over the next couple of days.”

Utility company Wellington Water warned people to stay out of the water after wastewater overflowed at the Moa Point, Seaview and Titahi Bay treatment plants. The same news report mentioned that an Auckland resident found an eel in his garage after flooding, which was promptly returned to the nearby creek.

Meteorologist Alec Holden was quoted telling local media that while Cyclone Tam had remained in New Zealand longer than expected, the weather should improve soon. “It is gradually losing steam, we’ve seen the worst of the rain at this point, although that does not mean the rain has stopped currently, but we are most certainly on the easing trend.”

Banner image of Cyclone Tam via New Zealand MetService.

The government of Laos has for the first time shut down a farm where live bears were harvested for their bile, after convincing the farm’s owner to voluntarily hand over three bears.

The rescued Asian black bears (Ursus thibetanus), two males and one female, are now being quarantined at the Luang Prabang Wildlife Sanctuary, operated by Australia-based NGO Free the Bears, which participated in the rescue.

“This is an important milestone for both Free the Bears and our government partners, showing that it is possible to close a bear bile farm and signalling that Laos is increasing its capacity and commitment to take on those who are illegally exploiting wildlife for profit,” Rod Mabin, Free the Bears communications director, told Mongabay by email.

Bile farms, found across Southeast Asia, usually hold Asian black and sun bears (Helarctos malayanus) in cages. Bile is extracted from their gall bladders using a syringe, for use in Asian traditional medicine as a supposed treatment for liver and kidney disease. Mabin said that while the active compound Ursodeoxycholic acid found in bear bile is scientifically proven to address liver or bile duct diseases, it can easily be synthesized in a laboratory. “There is no legitimate reason to extract bile from bears or keep bears in bile farms.”

It’s also illegal to hunt, possess or trade bears and their body parts in Laos under a 2007 wildlife law, but Mabin said a loophole exempts bile farms established before the law’s enactment.

Moreover, bile farms can only be closed when there are rescue facilities available to accept the bears, which can’t be released into the wild. “Rescued bears often have broken teeth and claws, skin conditions, infected wounds, malignant cancers, damaged eyes or blindness, stunting and poor body condition with wasted muscles,” Mabin said. “It is only in recent years that sufficient sanctuary space has become available to rescue more bears and close down farms.”

The three recently rescued bears are also expected to suffer lifelong health issues due to a poor diet and regular bile extraction. Veterinarians are monitoring their progress, and after about a month in quarantine, the bears will be released into the sanctuary’s natural outdoor habitat, which includes climbing platforms, pools, caves and swings.

“We ‘enrich’ their environment to encourage them to explore and interact with their surroundings, stimulate their highly intelligent minds, and give them choices to help them feel more in control of their environment. This ultimately leads to healthier and more content bears,” Mabin said.

The NGO previously spotted 20-30 caged bears in the now-closed bear bile farm, called Kao Liaw, in Laos’s capital, Vientiane, but Mabin said they don’t know what happened to the rest. Concerned about the remaining three bears, the Laos government and the charity visited the farm and convinced the owner to hand over the bears and close the farm, Mabin added.

Banner image of the rescued bears, courtesy of Free the Bears.

There’s something about viewing Earth from space — the shift in perspective has for decades moved us emotionally, scientifically, and philosophically.

The iconic Earthrise image of our planet rising above the lunar horizon, taken in 1968 by astronauts aboard the Apollo 8 mission, is widely credited with fueling the environmental movement that led to the first Earth Day on April 22, 1970.

The 1972 Blue Marble image, taken by astronauts in the Apollo 17 spacecraft, gave us another unique perspective of our planet, and its frailty, in its entirety.

Today, the bird’s-eye view of an image from space isn’t unfamiliar; whether navigating to a new restaurant or tracking the approaching path of a storm, it’s become commonplace to rely on these pictures.

Satellite images have also become a critical, powerful way of visualizing near-real-time changes to our planet’s natural areas and monitor threats like illegal logging and mining. These images guide a lot of Mongabay’s reporting.

At their core, satellite images continue to inspire and move us.

On Earth Day this year, we present ten satellite images taken by the Earth imaging company Planet Labs, which owns and operates a network of hundreds of small satellites orbiting our planet. These images were captured during Planet Labs’ routine scan of the globe.

Mt. Taranaki, New Zealand, captured March 16, 2022

Great Barrier Reef, Australia, captured Jan. 6, 2022

Thwaites Glacier, Antarctica, captured Nov. 27, 2024

Lençóis Maranhenses National Park, Brazil, captured April 21, 2023

Etosha National Park, Namibia, captured April 29, 2022

Sundarbans, India/Bangladesh, captured April 19, 2024

Kibale National Park, Uganda, captured July 23, 2023

Macapa, Brazil, captured July 22, 2023

Ranken, Northern Territory, Australia, captured March 14, 2023

Sunnhordland Geopark, Norway, captured May 31, 2021

LANGKAT, Indonesia — A critically endangered Sumatran elephant was found dead April 4 on the border of the Gunung Leuser National Park in Sumatra’s Langkat district, officials said.

The elephant was male, around 10 years old, and weighed no more than 2 tons. Officials said they believe the individual had been dead for several days before being reported.

Regional state conservation lead Amenson Girsang said a preliminary assessment by veterinarians found wounds on the elephant’s body, but the cause of death was inconclusive.

Toxicology tests were underway to assess if poisoning was the cause of death, officials said.

“We’re still waiting for the lab results, which will come back within 30 days after they received the samples,” said Subhan, the director of the Gunung Leuser National Park office in Indonesia’s North Sumatra province.

The protected Leuser Ecosystem spans almost 8,000 square kilometers (3,088 square miles) in the north of Indonesia’s Sumatra Island and is the only place on Earth where Sumatran elephants (Elephas maximus sumatranus), orangutans (genus Pongo), rhinos (Dicerorhinus sumatrensis) and tigers (Panthera tigris sondaica) coexist in the wild. All four are critically endangered, according to the IUCN, the global wildlife conservation authority.

Subhan said a team of officials and conservationists arrived at the scene on April 5, the day after a plantation worker had discovered the deceased elephant.

Several local people told Mongabay Indonesia that the elephant had died within a plantation concession operated by PT Raya Padang Langkat, but the company denied the claim. PT Rapala, as the company is commonly known, has a history of conflict with local communities.   

“Not in our concession,” PT Rapala manager Daulat Siregar said in a text message. “We were there only to help with the burial process and take samples for laboratory examination.” 

Elephant deaths in oil palm plantations near Gunung Leuser National Park aren’t new. In 2017, an elephant was found dead in a concession operated by PT Perkebunan Inti Sawit Subur, just 1.5 km (0.9 mi) from the park’s boundary. In November 2016, authorities rescued two elephants from hunters’ snares in the same plantation.

The area where the latest elephant death occurred lies on the Aceh–North Sumatra elephant corridor. Indonesia’s forestry ministry last year said it would release a conservation plan for the corridor by April this year.

In 2007, the Sumatran elephant population was estimated to be between 2,400 and 2,800 individuals in the wild. However, a draft 2019-2029 elephant conservation plan, not released by the government but viewed by Mongabay, estimated there might be 924-1,359 elephants left.

According to WWF-Indonesia, Sumatran elephants have lost around 70% of their habitat in less than three decades, owing to land use change for oil palm, pulp and rubber concessions.

This story was first published here in Indonesian on April 10.

Banner image: a Sumatran elephant (for representation only). Image by Rhett A. Butler/Mongabay.

Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries.

It’s difficult to describe the feeling of standing beneath Auyán-Tepuí, that towering table mountain in southern Venezuela, except to say that something in me changed.

In the mid-1990s, I visited Auyán-Tepuí, part of Canaima National Park, drawn by the allure of Angel Falls, the tallest waterfall on Earth. But nothing prepared me for the sheer presence of the landscape. The tepui rose from the rainforest like a stone citadel from another world, its flat summit often veiled in cloud, as if the sky itself had settled upon it. From its rim, most of the water drifted down in impossible cascades, dissolving into mist before ever touching the ground.

Orchids and bromeliads clung to lichen-laden limbs of miniature trees that grew on beds of colorful spongy moss. Carnivorous pitcher plants pooled rain and trapped the forest’s tiniest lives. The air was thick with the breath of the jungle, fragrant and wild.

There were animals I couldn’t name. Colors I had never seen. Textures unfamiliar to my hands. The forest was not a backdrop — it was the drama, the memory, the dream you didn’t know you’d had until you stepped into it. Rounding a bend, I’d catch a glimpse of sunlight threading the fog, touching down on a patch of color so briefly it felt imagined. There was nothing to say. Just the stillness that comes when beauty strikes something deep and wordless.

Auyán-Tepuí means “Devil’s House” in the Pemón language, but there was no menace here — only power. The kind of power that humbles. That erases all pretense and leaves you still, small and in awe. The kind of power that reminds you the world is not yours to own, only to witness.

That feeling has never left me. It’s what animates everything we do at Mongabay. Because once you have seen the world as it truly is — brimming with mystery, resilience, and life — you understand why it must be protected. Not just for science or climate or utility. But because places like Auyán-Tepuí are sacred. They hold something older than us. Wiser than us. And when we allow them to endure, they make us better.

I left the mountain with wet shoes, a full heart, and a vow: to try, however imperfectly, to honor what I had seen.

Banner image of Auyán-Tepuí in Venezuelaby Rhett A. Butler/Mongabay.