I was you.

Long before I was photographing bears in Alaska, tracking orangutans through the rainforests of Sumatra, sitting with mountain gorillas in Uganda, or searching for one of the world’s rarest bears here in Italy, I was simply someone who loved animals.

I cared deeply, but I had no idea what to do with that passion.

I assumed wildlife conservation was something reserved for scientists, park rangers, and people with PhDs. I thought you needed decades of experience before anyone would take you seriously.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Today, I’ve been fortunate enough to work alongside some of the most inspiring conservationists on Earth. I’ve seen incredible successes. I’ve also witnessed heartbreaking losses. I’ve spent countless hours around boardroom tables, in government meetings, and in remote villages discussing conservation, and just as many hours sitting in forests, mountains, and tundra watching wildlife simply exist.

The more time I spend in conservation, the more I realize how much I still have to learn.

But there are a handful of lessons I wish someone had shared with me years ago.

Maybe they’ll help you begin your own journey.

1. You Don’t Need Permission to Care

For years, I was waiting.

Waiting until I knew enough.

Waiting until I had the right experience.

Waiting until someone invited me into conservation.

I thought there would be some moment when I’d finally be “qualified.”

That moment never came.

Instead, I slowly realized that conservation isn’t a club with a membership card. Nobody is standing at the entrance checking your credentials.

If you care about wildlife, you’re already part of it.

My own path certainly wasn’t traditional.

I spent nearly a decade working as an economist at the World Bank. Conservation wasn’t in my job description. Photography wasn’t either.

Then bears changed everything.

What began as a fascination slowly became an obsession. That obsession became a purpose. Eventually it led me to create The Wildlife Collective, not because I knew exactly what I was doing, but because I simply couldn’t imagine not trying.

Looking back, I’m grateful I stopped waiting.

If I had continued waiting until I felt ready, I’d probably still be waiting today.

2. Conservation Needs More Than Scientists

One of the biggest surprises for me has been discovering how many different skills conservation actually needs.

Of course we need biologists.

But we also need storytellers.

Photographers.

Lawyers.

Fundraisers.

Teachers.

Graphic designers.

Filmmakers.

Social media managers.

Economists.

Policy experts.

Business owners.

Volunteers.

Every successful conservation campaign I’ve been involved with has been built by people with completely different backgrounds.

Science tells us what is happening.

Stories convince people to care.

Policy turns ideas into action.

Fundraising makes it possible.

Communication inspires others to join.

No one person can do everything.

And that’s actually the beauty of conservation.

Whatever your skills are, chances are wildlife needs them.

3. Conservation Is About People Just as Much as Wildlife

This is probably the lesson that surprised me the most.

When I first became passionate about wildlife, I thought conservation was mostly about animals.

It’s not.

It’s about people.

It’s about understanding why communities make the decisions they do.

It’s about listening before speaking.

It’s about building trust.

It’s about finding common ground with people who may see the world very differently than you.

Some of the most successful conservation projects I’ve visited haven’t succeeded because they had the best science.

They succeeded because they had the support of local people.

I’ve also learned this through advocacy.

One campaign that really shaped my thinking was the effort to stop the proposed Pebble Mine in Alaska.

On paper, it was an unlikely coalition.

Environmental organizations.

Commercial fishermen.

Local Indigenous communities.

Business owners.

Hunters.

Even bear trophy hunters.

Many of these groups disagreed on countless other issues.

But they agreed on one thing.

Some places are simply too important to lose.

That campaign taught me that conservation isn’t about finding people who agree with you on everything.

It’s about finding enough common ground to protect something that matters.

Sometimes that requires setting aside differences in pursuit of a larger goal.

4. Passion Gets You Started. Strategy Gets Results.

I used to think caring deeply was enough.

It’s not.

Passion gives you energy.

Strategy gives you impact.

The longer I’ve worked in conservation, the more I’ve realized that changing hearts and minds is incredibly difficult.

Facts alone rarely change opinions.

Neither does anger.

People respond to stories.

To hope.

To belonging.

To solutions.

Some of the most successful conservation campaigns in history didn’t succeed because they shouted the loudest.

They succeeded because they understood people.

They knew how to communicate.

They knew when to push.

When to collaborate.

When to compromise.

And when not to.

This is something I continue to learn every single day.

Every photograph I share, every article I write, every tour I lead, every campaign we support through The Wildlife Collective begins with one question.

How can this inspire one more person to care?

Because people protect what they love.

Everything else follows from that.

5. Never Lose Hope

I’ll be honest.

Conservation can be emotionally draining.

I’ve walked through forests where orangutans used to live that have now become palm oil plantations.

I’ve seen bears threatened because of politics.

I’ve watched incredible habitats disappear.

I’ve sat with conservationists who dedicate their entire lives to protecting species while constantly worrying about funding.

Some days it feels overwhelming.

But then something happens.

A child tells me they now want to become a conservationist.

A former hunter becomes an advocate.

A community decides to protect wildlife instead of exploiting it.

A photograph reaches millions of people and starts conversations that otherwise wouldn’t have happened.

A campaign succeeds against impossible odds.

Those moments remind me why this work matters.

Conservation isn’t measured in days.

It’s measured in decades.

Sometimes generations.

Progress is often frustratingly slow.

But it is progress nonetheless.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from bears, it’s perseverance.

Every spring they emerge from months of hibernation and simply begin again.

No fanfare.

No certainty.

Just another season.

I think conservation is much the same.

We wake up each day and choose to keep going.

Not because success is guaranteed.

But because wildlife deserves people willing to try.

One Final Thought

If you’re wondering whether one person can really make a difference, let me leave you with this.

Every conservation movement in history started because someone cared enough to act.

Not because they had all the answers.

Not because they were the smartest person in the room.

Simply because they decided that doing something was better than doing nothing.

I certainly don’t have all the answers.

I’m still learning every single day.

But I do know this.

The world doesn’t need more people who love wildlife from a distance.

It needs more people willing to step forward and become part of its future.

I hope you’ll be one of them.

I’d love to hear from you.

What lessons has wildlife conservation taught you? Or if you’re just getting started, what’s holding you back? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Quote of the Day

We can’t all be Superman, but we can all do super things.

— Darma Pinem

Kenya Big Cat Safari Openings

We have just two spots left on our September 2–9 Kenya Big Cat Safari. We'll be staying at our very own Kapoto Camp in the heart of the Masai Mara, spending our days searching for lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, and so much more. There's something truly magical about the Mara: the incredible wildlife, the golden light, the endless plains, and the amazing people who make this place so special. If you've ever dreamed of experiencing Africa's iconic big cats in the wild, I'd love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you're interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Although I never had the chance to meet Chas, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about him over the years. The wildlife photography community is surprisingly small, and his name seemed to come up often. Whenever it did, people spoke not only about his photography, but about his kindness, his generosity, and his willingness to help others.

He was one of Canon’s Explorers of Light and part of a generation of wildlife photographers who helped pave the way for so many of us who came later. Long before social media, before YouTube, before millions of wildlife photographs were shared every single day, photographers like Chas were out in the field documenting wild places and inspiring people to care about them. They showed us what was possible with a camera, but more importantly, they reminded us why these places matter in the first place.

It’s strange how the passing of someone you’ve never actually met can still affect you.

Maybe it’s because, in some small way, we’re all connected by a shared passion. We spend countless hours sitting in forests, on mountainsides, in wetlands, and along coastlines, waiting for moments that most people will never see. We wake before dawn, endure the rain, the cold, the mosquitoes, the long drives, and the disappointments because every now and then nature gives us something extraordinary. People like Chas helped build that community long before many of us ever picked up our first camera.

His passing has been making me think a lot about life this week.

It’s so easy to live as though we have unlimited time.

We postpone the trip we’ve always wanted to take because next year seems more convenient. We tell ourselves we’ll spend more time with family once work slows down. We’ll call that friend tomorrow. We’ll chase that dream when the timing feels right.

But the truth is that none of us knows how much time we have.

Life can change in a single moment.

One ordinary day becomes the day everything changes for a family forever.

It’s a difficult thought, but maybe it’s also an important one.

Because if we truly accepted how fragile life is, perhaps we’d spend a little less time worrying about things that won’t matter a year from now. Maybe we’d spend a little more time watching sunsets instead of screens. We’d hug the people we love a little longer. We’d forgive a little quicker. We’d stop waiting for the “perfect time” to do the things we’ve always dreamed of.

One of the greatest gifts wildlife has given me isn’t photography.

It’s perspective.

When you spend enough time in wild places, you begin to understand how fleeting everything is. A salmon run lasts only a short time. Wildflowers bloom and disappear. Cubs grow up. Seasons change. Animals you’ve spent years following suddenly aren’t there anymore.

Nothing lasts forever.

Maybe that’s exactly what makes it so beautiful.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to spend my life in some of the world’s most extraordinary wild places, sharing remarkable moments with bears, great apes, big cats, and the people dedicated to protecting them. Every trip reminds me that experiences are worth so much more than possessions. The memories I’ve made with family, friends, guests, and complete strangers in these wild places are the things I’ll carry with me forever.

I don’t know what Chas would want people to remember about him.

But I imagine, like so many photographers, he’d probably hope that his work encouraged people to appreciate the natural world just a little more than they did before.

My heart goes out to his family, his friends, and everyone who knew and loved him. I can’t begin to imagine what they’re going through.

If there’s one thing his passing reminds me of, it’s this:

Life is precious.

It is fragile.

It is unpredictable.

Don’t wait for the perfect moment to take the trip. Don’t put off the adventure you’ve always wanted to have. Tell the people you care about how much they mean to you. Be kinder than necessary. Spend more time outside. Watch the sunrise. Put the camera down sometimes and simply be present.

None of us knows what tomorrow holds.

The only thing we can really control is how fully we choose to live today.

Rest in peace, Chas.

And thank you for helping inspire generations of wildlife photographers to see the beauty of the natural world.

Quote of the Day

Your time is limited. Don’t waste it by living someone else’s life.

— Steve Jobs

Kenya Big Cat Safari Openings

We now have just two spots left on our September 2–9 Kenya Big Cat Safari. We’ll be staying at our very own Kapoto Camp in the heart of the Masai Mara, spending our days searching for lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, and so much more. There’s something truly magical about the Mara: the incredible wildlife, the golden light, the endless plains, and the amazing people who make this place so special. If you’ve ever dreamed of experiencing Africa’s iconic big cats in the wild, I’d love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you’re interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Those things matter.

But they aren’t my answer.

The single most important habit I’ve developed is something anyone can do, regardless of what camera they own.

I rank my photographs.

After every trip, I sit down and go through every image I’ve taken. Whether I’ve spent a week with brown bears in Alaska, orangutans in Sumatra, or mountain gorillas in Uganda, I ask myself the same question over and over again:

Which photograph is better?

Then I keep asking until I’ve reduced thousands of images to just a handful.

It’s a surprisingly difficult exercise. We become emotionally attached to our photographs because we remember the effort it took to make them. The freezing mornings. The rain. The long hikes. The incredible wildlife encounter. But the viewer doesn’t know any of that. They only see the photograph.

Learning to separate the experience from the image changed everything for me.

Every Photograph Has to Earn Its Place

Early on, I was guilty of what I think most photographers do.

If I had ten nice photographs of a bear catching a salmon, I wanted to keep all ten. They were all sharp. They all brought back wonderful memories. Surely they all deserved to be shared.

They didn’t.

Over time, I realized that every photograph in my portfolio should have a reason for being there. If two images tell the same story, one of them is probably stronger than the other.

So now, every new photograph has to compete against every photograph I’ve ever taken.

If I photograph a polar bear today, I don’t compare it to yesterday’s images. I compare it to every polar bear photograph I’ve made over the last decade.

If it isn’t better—or at least meaningfully different—then it doesn’t make the cut.

That mindset pushes me to become a better photographer every single year.

One Extraordinary Photograph Is Worth More Than One Hundred Good Ones

We’re surrounded by volume.

Social media encourages us to post constantly. Hard drives fill with hundreds of thousands of images. It’s easy to believe that more photographs somehow make us better photographers.

I think the opposite is true.

I’d much rather create one photograph that people remember for years than one hundred that they scroll past in seconds.

When I think about my favorite wildlife photographers, I don’t remember thousands of their images.

I remember a few.

The truly unforgettable ones.

Those are the photographs we should all be striving to make.

Ranking Reveals Your Style

One unexpected benefit of this process is that it helps you discover what kind of photographer you actually are.

When you consistently rank your work, patterns begin to emerge.

Maybe your strongest photographs always use dramatic light.

Maybe you’re drawn to intimate portraits.

Maybe you love showing animals within vast landscapes instead of filling the frame.

Maybe your best images always capture behaviour rather than simply documenting an animal.

These aren’t accidents.

They’re clues.

They’re your artistic voice beginning to emerge.

The more honest you are when ranking your work, the easier it becomes to recognize what truly excites you as a photographer. Once you understand that, you stop chasing other people’s styles and start refining your own.

Your Best Photograph Will Change

One of the things I love most about photography is that our taste evolves.

I’ve gone back through old folders and discovered photographs I barely noticed when I first edited them. Years later, they suddenly stood out to me.

I’ve also looked at images I once considered portfolio-worthy and wondered what I ever saw in them.

That’s part of growing.

As your photography improves, your standards improve with it.

Your rankings shouldn’t be fixed forever. They’re a living reflection of who you are as a photographer today, and they’ll continue to change as you do.

My Challenge to You

The next time you return from a trip, don’t just edit your photographs.

Rank them.

Start with your best fifty.

Reduce them to twenty.

Then ten.

Then five.

Finally, force yourself to choose just one.

Not your friend’s favourite.

Not the one you think Instagram will like the most.

The one that represents the very best of what you’re capable of creating today.

It’s harder than it sounds.

But I think you’ll discover something surprising.

The exercise isn’t really about finding your best photograph.

It’s about learning why it’s your best.

And once you understand that, you’ll know exactly what you’re chasing the next time you pick up your camera.

Quote of the Day

I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.

— Bruce Lee

Kenya Big Cat Safari Openings

We now have just two spots left on our September 2–9 Kenya Big Cat Safari. We'll be staying at our very own Kapoto Camp in the heart of the Masai Mara, spending our days searching for lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, and so much more. There's something truly magical about the Mara: the incredible wildlife, the golden light, the endless plains, and the amazing people who make this place so special. If you've ever dreamed of experiencing Africa's iconic big cats in the wild, I'd love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you're interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

To some people, that probably sounds like an unusual family vacation.

To us, it’s just another adventure.

Over the past few years, my kids have joined me in places I could only dream about visiting when I was their age. They’ve watched lions at sunrise from Kapoto Camp, our safari camp in Kenya’s Masai Mara. They’ve searched for pumas beneath the granite towers of Patagonia. They’ve looked for tigers in the forests of India. They’ve seen an Andean bear in Colombia’s high-altitude páramo. They’ve explored the rainforests of Costa Rica, eyes constantly scanning the canopy for monkeys, sloths, toucans, and whatever else might reveal itself.

Now we’re here in Romania, hiking through ancient forests in search of brown bears.

Moments like this remind me why I do everything I can to bring my kids along.

Ironically, one of the hardest parts of my job isn’t the travel itself. It’s being away from my family.

These days I spend more than six months each year traveling to some of the world’s most extraordinary wildlife destinations. I feel incredibly fortunate to call this my career, but it comes with a cost. I’ve missed birthdays, school events, and countless little moments that parents treasure. There are milestones I can never get back.

That’s why, whenever I have the opportunity, I bring my kids with me.

It isn’t always convenient. It certainly isn’t always easy. But it’s one of the best decisions we’ve ever made.

People often ask why I travel so much with them.

The answer is simple.

Because these are the moments they’ll remember.

They probably won’t remember most of the toys they received for birthdays or Christmas.

But they’ll remember the first time they saw a wild bear.

They’ll remember the sound of lions roaring outside our tent in Kenya.

They’ll remember waking up before sunrise because Dad whispered, “Today might be the day.”

Those experiences become part of who they are. They shape how they see the world and, I hope, the kind of people they grow up to become.

As a wildlife photographer and conservationist, I spend my life encouraging other people to fall in love with the natural world. Over the years, I’ve come to believe something very simple.

People protect what they love.

And that love doesn’t begin when we’re adults.

It begins when we’re children.

When a child watches an elephant cross the road, locks eyes with a tiger, or sees a sloth bear stand its ground against a leopard, wildlife stops being something they read about in a book.

It becomes real.

It becomes personal.

That’s what I hope these trips give my kids.

I want them to experience the same sense of awe I feel every time I step into a wild place. I want them to understand just how beautiful, diverse, and fragile our planet really is. If they’re going to inherit this world, I want them to know what’s worth protecting.

Of course, whenever I share these adventures, people usually have the same reaction.

“I could never travel like that with young children.”

Honestly, that hasn’t been my experience.

Kids are remarkably adaptable. They need snacks. They need sleep. They need something to do. Give them activity books, little adventures, time to rest, and the freedom to simply be kids, and they can handle far more than we often give them credit for.

Traveling with children isn’t about making every moment perfect.

It’s about being prepared, staying flexible, and embracing the unexpected.

In fact, some of our best memories have come when nothing went according to plan.

And those unexpected moments often become the greatest teachers.

Without even realizing it, my kids are learning lessons that extend far beyond wildlife.

They’re learning patience. They’re learning resilience. They’re learning that nature doesn’t operate on our schedule and that the best things in life are often worth waiting for.

They’re also discovering that the world is far bigger than themselves.

Wildlife may be what brings us to these places, but it’s the people we meet along the way who leave just as lasting an impression.

They’ve met Maasai families in Kenya. They’ve shared meals with local guides in India. They’ve played with children who speak different languages but laugh at exactly the same things.

Travel has a remarkable way of reminding us that, despite our differences, we’re all connected.

My kids learn math, science, and history in school. Those subjects are incredibly important. But travel teaches them lessons that can’t be learned in a classroom.

It exposes them to different cultures, perspectives, and ways of life. It teaches empathy, curiosity, resilience, and humility. It helps them understand that the world is far more diverse—and far smaller—than any map can show.

Most importantly, I hope it prepares them for the future they’ll inherit. The biggest challenges of their generation, whether climate change, biodiversity loss, or inequality, don’t stop at national borders. If they’re going to inherit this planet, I want them to see it not as a collection of countries, but as one shared home.

More than anything, I hope these experiences help them become compassionate, curious global citizens who understand that our futures are intertwined, and that protecting this planet is a responsibility we all share.

And as much as these trips are shaping them, they’re shaping me too.

Some of my happiest memories are watching my kids experience wildlife through their own eyes.

It’s watching my son become fascinated with photography, carefully composing his own images.

It’s seeing my daughter light up when she spots an animal before I do.

It’s answering endless questions about why bears behave a certain way, why tigers roar, or whether lions dream when they sleep.

Their curiosity is contagious.

It reminds me to slow down, notice the little things, and experience the world through fresh eyes again.

As I watched my kids hike through this Romanian forest, hoping the next turn in the trail reveals a brown bear, I realized we’re not just searching for wildlife.

We’re building a lifetime of memories together.

One day they’ll probably forget the names of many of the places we’ve visited. But I hope they never forget how those places made them feel.

Because in the end, that’s why I travel with my kids.

I’m sharing the thing I love most with the people I love most.

And for me, there is no greater adventure than that.

Quote of the Day

Good parents give their children roots and wings: roots to know where home is, and wings to fly off and practice what has been taught them.

— Jonas Salk

Alaska Bear Camp Openings

We now have just two spots left on our August 16–20 Alaska Bear Camp. Of all the places I've been fortunate enough to visit around the world, this remains my favorite place on Earth. We'll be there during the peak of the salmon run, when we typically see 20 to 40 brown bears each day fishing for red salmon right in front of us. If you've ever dreamed of experiencing wild brown bears in Alaska, I'd love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you're interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Five years ago, this company existed only as an idea. A belief that wildlife tourism could be done differently. That small groups, ethical experiences, and genuine conservation partnerships could create something meaningful. That we could inspire people to fall in love with the wild, and in doing so, help protect it.

As we’ve grown, one thing has become increasingly clear to me.

The success of The Wildlife Collective will never be defined by the number of tours we run or the number of countries we visit. It will be defined by the people who represent it.

That’s why I’m incredibly excited to welcome James Corwin to The Wildlife Collective as one of our new Global Tour Leaders.

Many of you already know James as one of the world’s most gifted wildlife artists.

His paintings have an extraordinary ability to capture far more than what an animal looks like. They capture its spirit, its presence, and the emotion of sharing a moment with something truly wild. They tell stories that words often can't, inspiring wonder, curiosity, and a deeper appreciation for the natural world. More than anything, they remind us that wildlife isn't simply something to observe or photograph. It's something to connect with, to respect, and ultimately, to protect.

Art has always played an important role in conservation. Long before most people could travel to Africa or Alaska or the Amazon, artists helped people imagine these places and the incredible animals that lived there. They sparked curiosity. They inspired wonder. They helped people care.

James continues that tradition in a remarkable way.

But while I admired his artwork long before we met, it was spending time with him in India earlier this year that truly convinced me he belonged at The Wildlife Collective.

James joined our tiger expedition, and over 8 unforgettable days we shared countless moments together.

We watched Bengal tigers walk right past us.

We spent hours with sloth bears as they foraged through the forest.

We spent long evenings around the dinner table talking about wildlife, conservation, photography, art, travel, and what each of us hoped to contribute to protecting the natural world.

Sometimes it’s during those conversations that you learn the most about someone.

What stood out wasn’t simply James’ knowledge or artistic talent. It was his character.

He is one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I’ve met. He’s humble, endlessly curious, and deeply respectful of both wildlife and the people around him. He asks questions. He listens. He celebrates other people’s successes. He genuinely wants to learn.

Those qualities matter.

When I choose someone to lead our expeditions, I don’t start by asking whether they’re the best photographer, the best artist, or the most experienced guide.

I ask a different question.

Would I trust this person to represent everything The Wildlife Collective stands for?

Would I be proud to have them introduce someone to their very first tiger, bear, leopard, orangutan, or gorilla?

Would they leave our guests not only with incredible photographs, but with a deeper appreciation for the wild?

For James, the answer was an easy yes.

As The Wildlife Collective continues to grow, we’ll be welcoming more expedition leaders from different backgrounds. Some are photographers. Some are naturalists. Some are conservationists. Some bring entirely different perspectives.

But they’ll all have one thing in common.

They’re good people.

People who care deeply about wildlife.

People who are generous with their knowledge.

People who understand that conservation begins with connection.

Because that’s what we’re really trying to create.

We’re creating experiences that change the way people see the natural world.

I’ve seen it happen countless times.

Someone arrives hoping to photograph a tiger.

They leave caring about the forests that tiger depends on.

Someone comes hoping to see an orangutan.

They leave understanding why protecting rainforests matters.

Someone travels halfway around the world to photograph a bear.

They return home ready to speak up when those bears need a voice.

That’s the ripple effect we’re trying to create.

James understands that.

For years, James has inspired people to care through his art, long after they’ve left the wilderness. Now he’ll have the opportunity to inspire them while they’re standing in it, sharing those moments together in real time.

I honestly can’t wait to see the impact he’ll have on our guests.

James, welcome to The Wildlife Collective.

I’m grateful our paths crossed, grateful for the friendship we’ve built, and even more excited for everything we’ll create together.

As our team continues to grow, so does our opportunity to make a difference. Every tour is a chance to help someone see the wild in a new way. Every conversation around a campfire, every shared sunrise, every unforgettable wildlife encounter has the power to spark a lifelong connection with nature.

That’s what this has always been about.

Not simply showing people wildlife, but helping them fall in love with it.

Because people protect what they love.

That’s the journey we’re on.

And I’m incredibly grateful that James is now part of it.

Quote of the Week

If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.

— African proverb

Where in the world am I?

I’m in a place most people would never expect to find incredible wildlife. It’s a country famous for legends of Dracula, yet few people realize it’s also home to one of Europe’s most extraordinary populations of brown bears. Last night, I had the privilege of seeing a very special bear, and over the past few days I’ve been listening, learning, and seeing firsthand the complex realities of living alongside them. There’s so much misinformation, misunderstanding, and sensationalized reporting surrounding these bears, but the truth is far more nuanced than most people realize. I have so much more to share. More soon. 🐻

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

“I saw your video about the slaughter. It really hits the heart! So disturbing. I’m also afraid you might be targeted!”

I know she wrote it out of love.

If you have children, you understand. You never stop worrying about them, no matter how old they become.

But her message also made me realize something important.

Fear is exactly what people in positions of power hope for.

Not necessarily fear of physical harm, but fear of speaking up. Fear of criticism. Fear of losing opportunities. Fear of being attacked online. Fear of being labeled difficult. Fear of standing alone.

History is full of people who relied on that fear.

Because when people stay quiet, power goes unchallenged.

I’ve spent much of my career working with governments around the world. I know there are many good people inside these institutions who genuinely want to do the right thing. But I also know that governments, corporations, and other powerful organizations sometimes make mistakes. Sometimes they become defensive. Sometimes they try to control the narrative rather than confront the truth.

When that happens, speaking up matters.

Will I be criticized? Probably.

Will some people try to discredit me? Almost certainly.

If I’m unfairly targeted, I’ll respond with facts, transparency, and respect. I have no interest in personal attacks. I care about evidence, honesty, and the animals that cannot speak for themselves.

What I won’t do is allow fear to dictate what I say.

Because here’s the irony.

Those who try to silence criticism often appear powerful, but they are usually afraid themselves.

They’re afraid of public scrutiny.

They’re afraid of transparency.

They’re afraid of ordinary people discovering that their voices matter.

They’re afraid because one person asking difficult questions becomes ten. Ten become a hundred. A hundred become thousands.

Real power has never belonged solely to those in office. It has always belonged to people willing to stand together.

Every major conservation victory we celebrate today happened because enough ordinary people refused to stay silent.

Whaling didn’t decline because governments woke up one morning with a change of heart.

The recovery of bald eagles didn’t happen because someone powerful suddenly decided it should.

Protected areas weren’t created because they were politically convenient.

They happened because countless individuals cared enough to speak, write, vote, donate, organize, and refuse to accept that destruction was inevitable.

The same is true today.

Whether it’s bears in Alaska, orangutans in Sumatra, gorillas in Africa, or wolves anywhere in the world, lasting change comes when enough people decide that silence is no longer an option.

That’s why I started The Wildlife Collective.

Not simply to photograph wildlife.

Not simply to lead tours.

But to help people fall in love with the natural world deeply enough that they’re willing to stand up for it.

The bears don’t have a vote.

They don’t have lawyers.

They don’t have social media accounts.

They only have us.

So yes, my mom worries. And I understand why.

But if we allow fear to keep us quiet, then fear has already won.

I’d rather use my voice.

And I hope you’ll use yours too.

Because one voice is easy to ignore.

Thousands are impossible.

Quote of the Week

The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.

— Alice Walker

Alaska Bear Camp Openings

Not far from where Alaska's aerial bear slaughter program is taking place, we host our annual Alaska Bear Camp. The contrast couldn't be greater. In one area, helicopters are being used to gun bears down from the sky; in another, people travel from around the world to watch these same animals thrive in the wild. Bear viewing generates tens of millions of dollars for Alaska's economy each year and supports hundreds of local jobs, demonstrating that living bears are worth far more than dead ones. We now have just two spots left on our August 16–20 Alaska Bear Camp. Of all the places I've been fortunate enough to visit around the world, this remains my favorite place on Earth. We'll be there during the peak of the salmon run, when we typically see 20 to 40 brown bears each day fishing for red salmon right in front of us. If you've ever dreamed of experiencing wild brown bears in Alaska, I'd love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you're interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Habitat loss. Climate change. Poaching. Political battles. Species declines. The aerial slaughter of brown bears in Alaska.

Sometimes it can feel like the problems are so large that nothing we do can possibly make a difference.

But then I think about mountain gorillas.

Or giant pandas.

Or bald eagles.

Or humpback whales.

And I remember that conservation works.

Not always. Not fast enough. Not perfectly.

But it works.

Every one of these species was once considered to be on a path toward extinction. Every one of them faced enormous challenges. And every one of them benefited from people who refused to give up.

Mountain gorillas may be the conservation success story that moves me the most.

There was a time when many people believed they would disappear entirely. Habitat loss, civil unrest, and poaching pushed them to the brink. Yet through decades of work by local communities, researchers, trackers, conservation organizations, governments, and tourism operators, their numbers have slowly increased.

Today, mountain gorillas are the only great ape whose population is growing.

Every time I sit with a gorilla family in Uganda, I think about how easily that experience might not exist. A different set of decisions could have led to a very different outcome.

The same is true for giant pandas.

For years, pandas were the symbol of endangered wildlife. They seemed fragile, isolated, and destined for decline. Yet habitat protection, reforestation, breeding programs, and long-term commitment changed their trajectory. While challenges remain, giant pandas have become a powerful reminder that recovery is possible when conservation is given enough time and resources.

Then there are bald eagles.

In the United States, bald eagle populations collapsed due to habitat loss, hunting, and the widespread use of DDT. By the 1960s, they had disappeared from much of their historic range.

Today, they soar over rivers, coastlines, and forests across North America.

What changed?

People recognized the problem and took action.

DDT was banned. Habitat was protected. Laws were enforced.

The result is one of the greatest conservation recoveries in modern history.

And then there are humpback whales.

Commercial whaling pushed humpbacks to the edge. In some regions, populations declined by more than 90 percent.

Imagine seeing a humpback whale today and knowing that, not long ago, there was a real possibility future generations might never experience that sight.

Yet international protections were put in place. Hunting largely stopped. Populations began to recover.

Today, humpbacks are once again breaching, singing, and migrating across oceans around the world.

These stories matter because they remind us that conservation is not just about preventing loss.

It’s about creating recovery.

It’s about proving that the future is not predetermined.

When I visit places like Uganda, Ecuador, Sumatra, Alaska, or the Masai Mara, I often hear people ask whether conservation can really make a difference.

My answer is always the same.

Look at the evidence.

Look at the mountain gorillas.

Look at the giant pandas.

Look at the bald eagles.

Look at the humpback whales.

These animals are still here because people cared enough to act.

Conservation is rarely a single heroic moment. It’s thousands of small actions repeated over years and decades. Researchers collecting data. Rangers protecting habitat. Communities choosing coexistence. Donors supporting projects. Photographers telling stories. Travelers spending their tourism dollars in the right places.

Individually, those actions may seem small.

Together, they can change the fate of a species.

As someone who spends much of my life searching for wildlife around the world, I find enormous hope in that.

Because if we helped bring mountain gorillas back from the brink, what else is possible?

If humpback whales can recover after industrial-scale whaling, what other species can recover?

If bald eagles can once again become a common sight across North America, what other conservation victories are waiting to be written?

The challenges facing wildlife are real.

But so are the successes.

And sometimes, when the news feels particularly heavy, I think it’s worth remembering that some of the greatest conservation stories in history are proof that people can make a difference.

So I’m curious:

Which conservation success story gives you the most hope?

Quote of the Week

It always seems impossible until it's done.

— Nelson Mandela

Alaska Bear Camp Openings

We now have just two spots left on our August 16–20 Alaska Bear Camp. Of all the places I've been fortunate enough to visit around the world, this remains my favorite place on Earth. We'll be there during the peak of the salmon run, when we typically see 20 to 40 brown bears each day fishing for red salmon right in front of us. If you've ever dreamed of experiencing wild brown bears in Alaska, I'd love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you're interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

They told you the hides were salvaged.

They told you the meat was donated to local villages.

They told you this was ethical wildlife management.

Then someone finally flew over the killing fields.

This spring alone, the State of Alaska gunned down 68 brown bears from helicopters as part of its Mulchatna Predator Control Program. Since the program began in 2022, more than 250 bears have now been killed from the air in one of the largest predator control programs in modern North American history.

For years, the public had only the state’s version of events.

Now, for the first time, we have photographs.

And they tell a very different story.

A dead yearling cub lies curled up on the tundra, exactly where it fell.

It isn’t skinned.

It isn’t salvaged.

It isn’t taken to a village.

It is simply left behind to waste away.

Nearby lies an adult brown bear. Partially butchered. Its head removed. Its front paws gone. The rest of its body abandoned where it died. Around the carcasses are spent shotgun slugs and plastic debris left behind on the tundra.

These bears didn’t attack anyone.

They weren’t threatening a community.

They weren’t breaking into cabins.

They were simply born in the wrong place.

From a helicopter high above, they never stood a chance.

I’ve spent years on foot with Alaska’s brown bears.

I’ve watched mothers patiently teach their cubs to fish for salmon. I’ve watched bears dig for clams, wrestle with siblings, nap in the afternoon sun, and patiently wait beside rivers for the perfect fish. I’ve watched them make decisions, solve problems, and care for their young.

I know these animals.

They’re intelligent.

They’re curious.

They’re individuals.

And now, one after another, they are being erased from the landscape by government helicopters.

What makes these photographs so disturbing isn’t only the killing.

It’s the contradiction.

Only days after these bears were found, Alaska’s Commissioner of Fish and Game publicly stated that no animals are wasted and that the meat is donated to local villages. Yet the first independent documentation of this program shows abandoned bear carcasses left to decompose on the tundra. Those two stories cannot both be true.

This isn’t just about bears anymore.

It’s about honesty.

It’s about transparency.

It’s about whether we should trust the people charged with managing Alaska’s wildlife.

But this story didn’t begin this spring.

The Mulchatna Predator Control Program was launched in 2022 after the Alaska Department of Fish and Game argued that predators were preventing the recovery of the Mulchatna caribou herd.

Their solution wasn’t to better understand the changing ecosystem.

It wasn’t to invest in habitat restoration.

It wasn’t to address disease.

It wasn’t to study the growing impacts of climate change.

It wasn’t to ask whether decades of human harvest had also contributed to the herd’s decline.

Instead, they chose helicopters.

They chose to chase bears across the tundra from the air and shoot them.

Not because these individual bears had done anything wrong.

Not because they posed a danger to people.

Simply because they were bears.

This is not how most people imagine wildlife conservation.

And it certainly isn’t how one of the world’s greatest wildlife destinations should manage its natural heritage.

Perhaps the most frustrating part of all of this is that there is still no compelling scientific evidence that this aerial slaughter will accomplish what the state claims it will.

Scientists have pointed to a combination of climate change, increasingly unpredictable winters, disease, parasites, habitat conditions, and human harvest as important pressures on the herd.

Yet year after year, Alaska continues to spend well over a million dollars of taxpayer money flying helicopters across the tundra to gun down bears from the air.

More than 250 bears.

Many of them mothers.

Many of them young.

This isn’t conservation.

It isn’t responsible wildlife management.

And it isn’t something Alaskans should be proud of.

We can have honest conversations about predator management. Wildlife conservation is rarely simple. But those conversations must be rooted in transparency, rigorous science, fiscal responsibility, and respect for the animals whose lives are being taken.

This program has become none of those things.

Instead, it has become an expensive, politically driven campaign that asks taxpayers to fund helicopters, asks the public to accept incomplete explanations, and asks Alaska’s bears to pay the ultimate price.

Alaska’s bears deserve better. And so do we.

We should expect wildlife management that follows the science, tells the truth, and reflects the values of the people it serves. Not fear, politics, or secrecy.

If you believe Alaska’s wildlife should be managed with integrity, compassion, and sound science, I hope you’ll make your voice heard.

Please take a moment to sign the petition calling for an end to the Mulchatna aerial bear killing program and help show that there is a better path forward.

Sign the petition here

Because these bears cannot speak for themselves.

We can.

Quote of the Week

You may choose to look the other way but you can never say again that you did not know.

— William Wilberforce

Alaska Bear Camp Openings

Not far from where Alaska's aerial bear slaughter program is taking place, we host our annual Alaska Bear Camp. The contrast couldn't be greater. In one area, helicopters are being used to gun bears down from the sky; in another, people travel from around the world to watch these same animals thrive in the wild. Bear viewing generates tens of millions of dollars for Alaska's economy each year and supports hundreds of local jobs, demonstrating that living bears are worth far more than dead ones. We now have just two spots left on our August 16–20 Alaska Bear Camp. Of all the places I've been fortunate enough to visit around the world, this remains my favorite place on Earth. We'll be there during the peak of the salmon run, when we typically see 20 to 40 brown bears each day fishing for red salmon right in front of us. If you've ever dreamed of experiencing wild brown bears in Alaska, I'd love to have you join us. Please send me a message if you're interested.

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

It’s taught me how to fail.

Over the years, I’ve missed more photographs than I could ever count. I’ve blown exposures. Focused on the wrong eye. Cut off limbs. Chosen the wrong lens. Been standing in the wrong place when something incredible happened. I’ve watched bears emerge from the forest behind me while I was looking the other direction. I’ve had wolves appear for ten seconds and disappear before I could even lift my camera.

At the time, every one of those moments felt frustrating. Sometimes devastating.

But the truth is that every photographer you admire has a collection of missed photographs far bigger than you think.

The difference isn’t that they don’t fail.

The difference is that they keep going.

Every missed image contains a lesson. Maybe it teaches you to anticipate behavior better. Maybe it teaches you to check your settings more often. Maybe it teaches you patience. Maybe it teaches you that nature doesn’t care about your plans.

If you’re willing to learn from your mistakes instead of dwelling on them, failure becomes one of the most valuable teachers you’ll ever have.

I’ve realized the same thing applies far beyond photography.

When I started The Wildlife Collective, I had no idea what I was doing.

I had never run a tour company.

I had never built a website.

I had never created itineraries, managed bookings, negotiated contracts, hired guides, or handled the endless list of challenges that come with running a business.

I’ve made mistakes.

Lots of them.

There have been tours that could have been better. Decisions I would make differently today. Marketing ideas that fell flat. Partnerships that didn’t work out. Projects that consumed enormous amounts of time and produced very little result.

But every one of those experiences taught me something.

The Wildlife Collective that exists today is built on thousands of small lessons learned through trial and error.

The same is true in conservation.

Many of the greatest conservation successes in the world were built on decades of setbacks, failed strategies, disappointments, and persistence. Progress is rarely a straight line. It’s usually a series of steps forward, steps backward, and people who refuse to quit.

Somewhere along the way, many of us become afraid of failure.

As children, we try everything. We climb trees. We learn to ride bikes. We fall down constantly and somehow never conclude that falling means we should stop trying.

As adults, we often do the opposite. We want guarantees before we begin. We want certainty before we take the first step. We worry about looking foolish. We worry about making mistakes.

But growth doesn't happen inside our comfort zone. It happens when we're willing to try something new, fail at it, learn from it, and try again. The discomfort isn't a sign you're doing something wrong. It's often a sign that you're growing.

The reality is that nobody starts out good at anything. Every skill, every accomplishment, every success story begins with someone being inexperienced, making mistakes, and learning as they go.

The people we admire are not the people who never fail. They are the people who keep showing up despite failure.

The people who are willing to be beginners.

The people who keep learning.

The people who understand that mistakes are not evidence of inadequacy. They are evidence that you’re trying.

I’ve missed countless photographs over the years. There are images that still haunt me. Moments I’ll never get back.

But if I hadn’t missed those photographs, I wouldn’t be the photographer I am today.

And if I hadn’t made mistakes in business, conservation, and life, I wouldn’t be the person I am today either.

So if there’s something you’ve been wanting to try, do it.

Take the photograph.

Start the project.

Launch the business.

Learn the skill.

Have the conversation.

You will make mistakes.

You will fail.

And that’s okay.

The goal isn’t to avoid failure.

The goal is to learn from it, grow from it, and keep moving forward.

That’s where the magic happens.

Quote of the Week

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

— Wayne Gretzky

Alaska Bear Camp Openings

As a reminder, we’ve had a few cancellations on our August 16-20 Alaska Bear Camp, which means a rare opportunity has opened up. Of all the places I have been fortunate enough to visit around the world, this remains my favorite place on Earth. This is the peak of the salmon run, and we expect to see 20 to 40 brown bears each day as they gather along the creek to fish for red salmon right in front of us. I genuinely believe this is one of the greatest wildlife encounters anyone can have anywhere on the planet. Please let me know if you are interested!

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

“When are you going to make a photo book?”

My answer has always been some version of: “One day.”

Well, I think that day has finally arrived.

After thirteen years of traveling to Sumatra, I have decided that my first photo book will be about orangutans.

And if I’m being honest, I need some help.

I’ve never created a photo book before.

I’ve never designed one.

I’ve never worked with a printer.

I’ve never figured out how many copies to order, where to store them, how to ship them, or whether I should use a print-on-demand service.

But I do know one thing.

I have a story that I want to tell.

A story of one of the most remarkable animals on Earth, the incredible place they call home, the challenges they face, and the reasons I still believe there is hope for their future.

I’ve watched orangutan mothers guide their infants through the canopy.

I’ve seen massive flanged males emerge from the forest like prehistoric creatures.

I’ve listened to long calls echo through the jungle.

I’ve watched young orangutans play, learn, and grow.

And along the way, I've encountered countless other species that make Gunung Leuser one of the most extraordinary places on Earth. Thomas's leaf monkeys, gibbons, hornbills, flying squirrels, pit vipers, elephants, and countless other creatures that most people will never have the opportunity to see. It is one of the last truly wild places left on our planet, and the only remaining ecosystem where orangutans, sun bears, elephants, rhinos, and tigers still share the same forest.

Yet despite the incredible diversity of life that surrounds me every time I visit, it is the orangutans that have always drawn me back.

There is something profoundly human about them. The way they care for their young. The way they think before acting. They are powerful and gentle at the same time.

They are familiar enough to remind us of ourselves, yet wild enough to remind us that there is still magic left in this world.

But over thirteen years, I’ve also watched the landscape around them change.

Each time I return, it seems there are more palm oil plantations pressing against the edges of the Gunung Leuser ecosystem. Vast stretches of rainforest that once connected wildlife habitat have been replaced by neat rows of oil palms. From the air, the contrast can be striking: one of the richest ecosystems on Earth bordered by an endless sea of monoculture.

It is a reminder that even places as extraordinary as Gunung Leuser are not immune to the pressures of a growing world.

And that is one of the reasons I want this book to be more than a collection of beautiful photographs.

I want it to tell the whole story.

I want this book to be truthful.

I want it to celebrate the wonder of orangutans while also acknowledging some of the uncomfortable realities of modern wildlife tourism, including the feeding and baiting of wild orangutans for tourist encounters.

Most importantly, I want it to be hopeful.

Because alongside the challenges, there are also extraordinary conservation stories.

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of working with and supporting the Sumatran Orangutan Society and Nature for Change, and I've seen firsthand how conservation can succeed when local communities, conservationists, and supporters work together toward a common goal.

Too often, conservation stories focus only on what we’re losing.

I want this book to focus on what we’re saving.

I want people to fall in love with orangutans.

I want them to understand why these forests matter.

I want them to see the challenges.

But I also want them to leave inspired by the incredible people dedicating their lives to protecting one of the most remarkable species on Earth.

One thing I know for certain is that this book should give back.

A portion of every sale will support the important conservation work of the Sumatran Orangutan Society and their efforts to protect orangutans.

The problem is that I still have a lot to learn.

How should the book be designed?

Should it be a large coffee-table book filled primarily with photographs, or should it include longer essays and stories from the field?

What software should I use?

Should I self-publish or try to work with a traditional publisher?

Should I print a large number of copies and ship them myself, or use a print-on-demand service?

And what about Kickstarter?

Would you support a Kickstarter campaign to help bring this project to life? Would signed copies, limited editions, prints, or behind-the-scenes stories make it more interesting?

If you’ve created a photo book before, I would genuinely love your advice.

And if you’re simply someone who loves wildlife, photography, conservation, or orangutans, I’d love to hear what would make you excited to own a book like this.

Because the truth is, this project isn’t really about creating a book.

It’s about preserving a story.

A story that has been unfolding over thirteen years of muddy trails, early mornings, rain-soaked forests, unforgettable encounters, and countless hours spent watching one of our closest relatives in the wild.

One day, the photographs will outlive me.

My hope is that when someone opens this book years from now, they won’t just see images of orangutans.

They’ll feel something.

Wonder.

Connection.

Hope.

And perhaps they’ll come away believing what I’ve come to believe after thirteen years in Sumatra: that these forests are worth protecting, that orangutans are worth fighting for, and that a small group of dedicated people really can change the future.

If this book helps even a few more people fall in love with the wild, it will have been worth every step of the journey.

Quote of the Week

If a story is in you, it has to come out.

— William Faulkner

Conservation News

The Storm That May Have Changed the Fate of the Tapanuli Orangutan

When most people think about the threats facing orangutans, they think about chainsaws, palm oil plantations, logging roads, and deforestation. Those threats are real, and they remain some of the greatest challenges facing great ape conservation today. But a new study from Sumatra highlights another growing danger that receives far less attention. According to researchers, extreme rainfall and landslides linked to Cyclone Senyar in November 2025 may have killed an estimated 58 Tapanuli orangutans in just four days. For a species with fewer than 800 individuals remaining on Earth, that represents roughly 7% of the entire global population.

The Tapanuli orangutan is the rarest great ape on the planet. Found only in the Batang Toru ecosystem of North Sumatra, it was recognized as a distinct species as recently as 2017. Unlike Bornean and Sumatran orangutans, which occupy larger areas, the entire Tapanuli population survives within a relatively small and fragmented landscape. That means there is very little margin for error. A single catastrophic event can have consequences that echo through the population for decades. When you are talking about fewer than 800 animals, every individual matters.

The researchers used satellite imagery to map the impacts of the storm and identified more than 50,000 landslides across the region. Entire hillsides collapsed. Forests that had stood for generations were stripped away in a matter of hours. More than 8,000 hectares of orangutan habitat were affected, much of it within the most important stronghold for the species. Scientists believe many orangutans were likely killed directly by landslides, falling trees, and flooding. Others may have survived the storm only to face a very different challenge in the months and years ahead as food sources disappear and damaged forests struggle to recover.

What struck me most about this story is that it challenges the way many of us think about conservation. Traditionally, conservation has focused on protecting habitat, preventing poaching, reducing conflict with people, and limiting direct human impacts on wildlife. Those efforts remain essential, and they are the reason species like the Tapanuli orangutan still exist today. But climate change introduces a new layer of complexity. A forest can be protected from logging. It can be protected from mining. It can be protected from agricultural expansion. Yet it remains vulnerable to increasingly powerful storms, droughts, floods, wildfires, and other climate-driven events.

What makes the situation particularly concerning is how slowly orangutans reproduce. Female orangutans typically give birth only once every six to nine years, one of the slowest reproductive rates of any mammal on Earth. Conservation scientists have long warned that even small increases in mortality can push orangutan populations into decline. Losing an estimated 58 individuals in a single event is not something that can be quickly reversed. It represents decades of lost reproductive potential and a significant setback for a species already hanging on by a thread.

Conservation and climate change are often discussed as separate issues, but they are deeply connected. The future of orangutans will depend not only on protecting forests from destruction but also on addressing the broader environmental changes reshaping the planet around them. The forests of Sumatra can no longer be separated from the choices we make everywhere else.

Our 2026 Tours with Availability

Aug 16-20: Alaska Bear Camp (3 spots)

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Not 50 throughout the day.

Not 10 sets of 5.

Fifty in a row.

Not because it’s the best workout in the world.

Not because 50 push-ups are going to transform my physique.

And certainly not because I enjoy every second of it.

I do it because it sets the tone for the day.

I’ve always believed that one of the easiest ways to train the mind is through the body. The body doesn’t negotiate. It doesn’t care about your excuses. It doesn’t care if you went to bed late, if it’s raining outside, or if you’re feeling a little tired.

It simply asks: are you going to do the thing you said you were going to do?

This morning was one of those mornings.

I was tired. The baby is sick and had been up. I could have easily told myself that missing one day didn’t matter.

And honestly, it probably wouldn’t.

But that’s not the point.

The point is that every time you keep a promise to yourself, you strengthen something far more important than your muscles. You strengthen trust in yourself.

You become the kind of person who follows through.

The push-ups themselves take less than a minute.

The real value comes from eliminating the debate.

There is no decision to make.

There is no motivation required.

There is only action.

Over time, those small acts of discipline compound.

When I am standing in the rain waiting for a spirit bear that may never appear, hiking through the Andes looking for elusive Andean bears, trekking through the jungles of Sumatra, or waking up at 4:00 a.m. to catch another flight to a remote corner of the world, I draw on the same mindset.

Do the work.

Show up.

Keep going.

No excuses.

The funny thing is that I usually work out later in the day as well. The 50 push-ups are not my workout. They are my reminder.

A reminder that discipline is a skill.

A reminder that comfort is often overrated.

A reminder that if I want to continue exploring wild places, carrying heavy camera gear, hiking mountains, and keeping up with my kids, I need to take care of the body that allows me to do those things.

But there is another reason.

I want to be prepared.

For anything.

I want an engine that doesn’t quit when conditions get difficult. An engine that keeps going when the weather turns bad, when the trail gets steep, when the hours get long, and when everyone else is tired.

I want to be the person people can count on.

The person who still has energy when help is needed.

The person who can carry the extra bag.

The person who can go back for someone who is struggling.

The person who is ready when circumstances become challenging.

The wild places I love are rarely easy to reach. Some of the most rewarding wildlife encounters happen far from roads, far from comfort, and far from convenience. They happen at the end of long hikes, difficult journeys, and uncomfortable days.

I want to train for that.

To go farther.

To stay out longer.

To reach the places that most people never see because they are unwilling or unable to make the effort required to get there.

So tomorrow morning, I’ll do another 50 push-ups.

Because life is short, the world is big, and there is still so much left to experience.

And I want to be ready for all of it.

Quote of the Week

I don’t stop when I’m tired. I stop when I’m done.

— David Goggins

Conservation News

When Conservation Success Creates New Challenges

Nepal has one of the most remarkable conservation success stories in the world. In just over a decade, the country almost tripled its tiger population, growing from roughly 120 tigers in 2009 to more than 350 today. It is the kind of achievement conservationists dream about and proof that, with enough commitment, endangered species can recover.

But success often creates challenges of its own.

A recent Mongabay article highlighted Nepal’s proposal to create a dedicated reserve for “problem tigers,” animals that have repeatedly come into conflict with people or have been linked to attacks on humans. As tiger numbers have increased, so too have encounters between people and tigers in some parts of the country. The government hopes that relocating these animals to a separate reserve could reduce conflict while still protecting the tigers.

On the surface, it sounds like a reasonable solution. If a tiger becomes dangerous, move it somewhere else. Protect local communities while giving the animal a place to live out its life. Everyone wins.

The reality, however, is more complicated. Tigers are highly territorial animals, and moving them into unfamiliar environments can create new problems. More importantly, relocating a tiger does not necessarily address the reasons it came into conflict with people in the first place. Habitat loss, declining prey, injuries, old age, and increasing overlap between human communities and tiger habitat can all contribute to conflict. Moving the animal may solve one immediate problem while leaving the larger issues untouched.

What I find most interesting about this story is that it highlights something conservationists do not always talk about enough. Saving a species is only the first step. The harder challenge is figuring out how people and wildlife can successfully coexist once populations begin to recover.

We often celebrate population numbers, and we should. More tigers is undoubtedly good news. But conservation cannot be measured solely by the number of animals on the landscape. It must also be measured by whether local communities continue to support living alongside those animals. If people feel that they are carrying all of the costs while receiving few of the benefits, support for conservation can quickly begin to erode.

This is not just a tiger issue. The same conversation is happening around bears, wolves, lions, leopards, and other large carnivores around the world. When predators recover, conflict becomes inevitable. The goal is not to eliminate conflict entirely. The goal is to manage it in a way that keeps both people and wildlife safe while maintaining public support for conservation.

In many ways, Nepal’s tiger dilemma is a good problem to have. A generation ago, the concern was whether there would be enough tigers left to save. Today, the challenge is learning how to share the landscape with them. That is a far more difficult conversation, but it is also one of the clearest signs that conservation is working.

Our 2026 Tours with Availability

Aug 16-20: Alaska Bear Camp (4 spots)

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

I came across this quote recently, and it stopped me in my tracks.

The older I get, the more I realize how much of life is spent trying to meet other people’s expectations. We worry about what others think. We compare ourselves to people online. We chase titles, status, money, followers, recognition, and approval.

But when you strip all of that away, maybe the audience that matters most is much smaller.

Maybe it’s just two people.

The child you once were.

And the person you will eventually become.

When I think about 8-year-old Zac, I don’t think he cared about job titles or business plans. He didn’t care about revenue targets, social media algorithms, or whether something was considered a smart career move.

He loved animals.

He loved adventure.

He dreamed about seeing wild places and experiencing the natural world firsthand.

If I could somehow sit down with that young boy today and show him photos of brown bears in Alaska, mountain gorillas in Uganda, orangutans in Sumatra, tigers in India, and pumas in Patagonia, I think his eyes would be as wide as dinner plates.

I don’t think he would ask how many followers I have.

I don’t think he would ask how much money the business makes.

I think he would simply say, “You actually did it.”

And that thought makes me smile.

But the second person in this quote is equally important.

The 80-year-old version of yourself.

The person looking back on a lifetime of decisions.

The person who has the benefit of hindsight.

I often wonder what that version of me would care about.

I doubt he will be thinking about how many emails I answered or how many hours I spent scrolling on my phone.

I suspect he’ll be thinking about the people he loved.

The adventures he took.

The risks he was brave enough to pursue.

The moments that made him feel truly alive.

The wildlife encounters that left him speechless.

The conservation battles he chose to fight.

The people he inspired to care about the natural world.

Most of all, I think he’ll care about whether he lived fully.

Whether he spent his time on things that mattered.

Whether he used his voice when it was needed.

Whether he left the world a little better than he found it.

That perspective can be incredibly clarifying.

Whenever I feel uncertain about a decision, I sometimes imagine both of those people sitting across from me.

The curious 8-year-old.

The wise 80-year-old.

If both of them would be proud, it’s probably the right path.

If one of them would be disappointed, maybe it’s worth reconsidering.

The truth is that life moves quickly.

One day you’re the kid dreaming about adventure.

The next, you’re the adult living the story.

And before you know it, you’ll be looking back on it all.

Life is shorter than we think.

One day, the adventures will become memories. The photographs will become stories. The miles traveled will become moments that shaped who we are.

So chase the things that make you feel alive.

Protect the things you love.

Use your voice when it matters.

And live in a way that would make 8-year-old you excited to wake up tomorrow and 80-year-old you grateful for every yesterday.

That’s a life worth living.

Quote of the Week

It is not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.

— Abraham Lincoln

Our Tours

My week of single parenting is coming to an end, and I’ll have more updates to share soon on several exciting tours, including what may be the nicest bear camp ever created. It’s a project we’ve been working on behind the scenes, and I can’t wait to share more details with all of you.

Our goal at The Wildlife Collective is simple but ambitious: to become the world’s leading tour operator for bears, big cats, and great apes. We are constantly exploring new destinations, building conservation partnerships, and creating experiences that help people connect with wildlife in meaningful and ethical ways. We have several exciting new destinations in development that we hope to announce soon.

We will also be finalizing our 2027 tour calendar over the next few weeks and adding additional 2028 departures. As always, I’d love to hear from you. If there is a wildlife destination, species, or experience you would love to see us offer in the future, please let us know. Some of our best tour ideas have come directly from conversations with this community.

2026 Tours with Availability

Aug 16-20: Alaska Bear Camp (4 spots)

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Every week, it seems there is another headline about habitat loss, declining wildlife populations, or species pushed closer to extinction. The challenges facing wildlife are real, and they deserve our attention.

But every once in a while, there is a story that reminds us what is possible when people decide that a species is worth protecting.

The jaguars of Brazil’s Pantanal are one of those stories.

Today, the Pantanal offers some of the best opportunities on Earth to see wild jaguars. Photographers and wildlife enthusiasts travel from around the world hoping for a glimpse of the largest cat in the Americas. Yet not long ago, jaguars faced a very different reality.

For decades, jaguars were heavily persecuted throughout much of their range. They were hunted for their beautiful coats, killed in retaliation for livestock losses, and viewed by many as a threat rather than a treasure. Across Latin America, populations declined and jaguars disappeared from many areas where they had once roamed.

The Pantanal was not immune to these pressures.

What changed was something remarkable: people began to recognize that living jaguars were worth more than dead ones.

Local communities, ranchers, researchers, conservation organizations, and tourism operators started working together to create a new model. Instead of viewing jaguars as a problem, they became an asset. Wildlife tourism brought jobs, income, and opportunities that depended on healthy jaguar populations. Conservation organizations invested in research, education, and coexistence programs. Ranchers developed new approaches to reducing conflict with wildlife.

Slowly, attitudes began to shift.

Today, parts of the Pantanal support some of the highest densities of jaguars found anywhere in the world. In certain areas, seeing multiple jaguars in a single day is no longer unusual. Researchers have documented population increases in some regions, and the area has become a global example of how conservation and local economic benefits can work hand in hand.

To me, that is one of the most inspiring aspects of the story.

The recovery of jaguars in the Pantanal did not happen because people stopped using the landscape. It happened because people found a way to make conservation valuable. Local communities, guides, boat operators, lodges, and landowners all benefit when wildlife thrives. Jaguars that were once feared and persecuted are now helping support livelihoods and local economies.

It is a powerful reminder that conservation works best when people and wildlife both have a future.

That does not mean the work is finished.

The Pantanal still faces significant threats. Climate change, increasingly severe wildfires, habitat conversion, and human-wildlife conflict remain ongoing challenges. Conservation is never a destination. It is a process that requires constant effort and vigilance.

But the jaguar story gives me hope.

It reminds me that conservation can work.

It reminds me that people can change their relationship with wildlife.

And it reminds me that when communities benefit from protecting nature, both people and wildlife can thrive.

That is one of the reasons I am so excited that The Wildlife Collective will be running our first Pantanal Jaguar Expedition from September 13–21, 2026.

The Pantanal is one of those places that wildlife lovers dream about. Covering an area larger than many countries, it is the largest tropical wetland on Earth and one of the most wildlife-rich ecosystems. While jaguars are the stars of the show, they are only part of what makes this place so special.

Giant river otters patrol the waterways. Hyacinth macaws flash brilliant blue across the sky. Capybara gather along riverbanks. Thousands of caiman line the shores. Tapirs move through the forests. Every boat ride feels like stepping into a wildlife documentary.

What makes the Pantanal truly unique, however, is that it allows people to experience jaguars not as distant, elusive ghosts of the forest, but as thriving apex predators living in a healthy ecosystem.

In many places across their range, seeing a wild jaguar requires an extraordinary amount of luck. In the Pantanal, jaguar sightings are a realistic expectation. Watching a jaguar emerge from dense vegetation, patrol a riverbank, swim effortlessly across a channel, or stalk prey along the water’s edge is one of those wildlife experiences that stays with you forever.

That is why I believe wildlife tourism, when done responsibly, can be such a powerful force for conservation. People protect what they love. And people are far more likely to love something once they have experienced it for themselves.

During our September 13–21, 2026 expedition, we have intentionally limited the group to just four guests to create a highly personalized experience and maximize our time in the field.

We will spend our days exploring the winding waterways of jaguar country by boat, searching for wildlife and photographing natural behaviors. We will spend our evenings aboard a floating hotel in the heart of the Pantanal, surrounded by the sounds of one of the wildest places left on Earth.

The small group size allows us greater flexibility, more room for photography, and more opportunities to stay with wildlife encounters as they unfold. Whether it is a jaguar walking the shoreline, giant river otters fishing, or hyacinth macaws flying overhead, our goal is to be fully immersed in the experience.

For me, wildlife travel has always been about more than checking species off a list.

It is about developing a deeper connection to the natural world.

It is about witnessing conservation success stories firsthand.

It is about seeing what is possible when people choose to protect wildlife rather than exploit it.

The Pantanal is one of the best places on Earth to experience that firsthand.

Every jaguar seen along the river is a reminder that conservation works.

Every encounter tells a story of resilience, coexistence, and hope.

And in a world that often feels full of environmental challenges, I think we need more stories like that.

If seeing jaguars in the wild has always been on your bucket list, I would love to have you join us.

🐆 September 13–21, 2026
📍 Pantanal, Brazil
📸 Led by Cassie Noel and Katie Yarnell
👥 Maximum 4 guests
🎟️ Only 2 spots remain

The jaguars of the Pantanal remind us that conservation success is possible.

Not perfect.

Not finished.

But possible.

And sometimes, that is exactly the kind of story we need.

Quote of the Week

A world without jaguars would be a poorer, less wild place.

— Alan Rabinowitz

Jaguar Facts

One of the things that makes jaguars so fascinating is that they are unlike any other big cat. They are the largest cat in the Americas and the third-largest cat in the world, behind only tigers and lions. Built like tanks, jaguars have incredibly muscular bodies, broad heads, and some of the most powerful jaws in the animal kingdom. In fact, pound for pound, they possess the strongest bite of any big cat. While lions and leopards typically kill by suffocation, jaguars are famous for being able to bite directly through the skulls of their prey.

They are also remarkably adaptable. Jaguars can be found in rainforests, wetlands, dry forests, and even scrubland habitats stretching from Mexico to northern Argentina. Yet despite this wide range, they are notoriously elusive. In most places, seeing a wild jaguar is considered a once-in-a-lifetime experience. That is one of the reasons the Pantanal is so special. It offers one of the best opportunities anywhere on Earth to observe jaguars behaving naturally in the wild.

Another thing that surprises many people is how much jaguars love water. Unlike most cats, jaguars are excellent swimmers and spend a significant amount of time in and around rivers. In the Pantanal, it is not uncommon to watch a jaguar swim across a channel, patrol a riverbank, or even hunt aquatic prey. Some individuals regularly feed on fish, turtles, caiman, and capybara. Watching a 250-pound jaguar effortlessly glide through the water is one of those wildlife moments you never forget.

As apex predators, jaguars play a critical role in maintaining healthy ecosystems. By regulating prey populations, they help keep nature in balance. Their presence is often a sign that an ecosystem is functioning as it should. In many ways, protecting jaguars means protecting entire landscapes and the countless other species that share their habitat.

Perhaps my favorite jaguar fact is this: despite their immense power, they are surprisingly difficult to find. A healthy jaguar population can live all around you without ever being seen. That mystery is part of what makes them so captivating. Every jaguar sighting feels earned. Every encounter feels special. And when a spotted shape finally emerges from the riverbank vegetation, you understand why so many people become lifelong advocates for their conservation after seeing one in the wild.

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

One month I might be standing beside brown bears in Alaska. The next, tracking orangutans through the rainforests of Sumatra. Then perhaps photographing mountain gorillas in Uganda, pumas in Patagonia, or polar bears in the Canadian Arctic.

I do this because I love wildlife. But I also do it because I believe stories matter.

Photography has always been about more than creating beautiful images. At its best, photography captures a moment that actually happened. It documents a memory, an experience, an encounter that will never occur in exactly the same way again.

Today, however, photography is facing a challenge unlike anything it has encountered before.

Artificial intelligence can now generate astonishingly realistic images with a few words and the click of a button.

Recently, while in Sumatra, I photographed a simple rainforest trail winding through the jungle. Out of curiosity, I asked an AI image generator to add a polar bear to the scene.

The result was surprisingly convincing.

At first glance, it looked real. A polar bear standing in the middle of a Sumatran rainforest. The lighting matched. The shadows looked believable. The composition felt natural.

If you look closely, you can still spot some issues. The paws aren’t quite right. There are small details that give away the illusion.

But the truth is that AI is improving incredibly quickly. Those flaws will likely disappear.

This raises an obvious question.

If AI can generate virtually any image we can imagine, what happens to photography?

The answer is that I genuinely don’t know.

I think AI will replace a significant amount of photography.

Stock photography is already being disrupted. Commercial imagery will likely change dramatically. Entire categories of images that once required photographers may soon be generated instantly.

But I don’t think that means photography disappears.

In fact, I think it may become even more valuable.

Consider the Mona Lisa.

It has been copied billions of times. You can download it instantly. You can buy posters, prints, postcards, and coffee mugs featuring the image.

Yet the original remains priceless.

Why?

Because it is real.

It is the actual painting. The object that Leonardo da Vinci touched. The piece of history that has survived for centuries.

The copies are visually similar.

But they are not the same.

I suspect photography may evolve in a similar way.

The value of many photographs has never been the pixels themselves.

The value comes from the story behind them.

The image of a polar bear is interesting.

But knowing that someone spent days in the Arctic waiting through snow and wind for that exact moment makes it meaningful.

The photograph of a mountain gorilla becomes more powerful when you know it documents a real encounter with a critically important species.

A photograph of an orangutan matters because it represents a moment that actually occurred in a rapidly disappearing rainforest.

People connect with stories.

People connect with experiences.

People connect with authenticity.

An AI-generated image can be beautiful.

But it cannot tell me what it felt like to stand ten feet from a wild brown bear in Alaska.

It cannot tell me about the smell of the rainforest in Sumatra after a tropical downpour.

It cannot tell me about the conversations with local guides, conservationists, researchers, and communities who dedicate their lives to protecting wildlife.

Those things are real.

And real matters.

Perhaps the future of photography will be less about creating images and more about documenting experiences.

Less about producing content and more about telling stories.

Less about perfection and more about authenticity.

I don’t know exactly what AI will do to photography over the next decade.

Nobody does.

But I remain optimistic.

Because I believe people will always want to connect with reality.

They will always want to know that a moment truly happened.

They will always be curious about the world beyond their own experience.

And as long as that remains true, there will be value in the photographers who venture into the wild, witness extraordinary moments, and bring those stories back to share with the rest of us.

The technology may change.

The tools may change.

But the human desire for authentic stories is timeless.

And that gives me hope.

Quote of the Week

We do not remember days, we remember moments.

— Cesare Pavese

Before & After

The first image is a photo I took while walking a trail in Sumatra. The second is the exact same image after I asked AI to add a polar bear.

At first glance, the AI-generated polar bear is surprisingly convincing. The lighting, scale, perspective, and overall placement on the trail are well matched to the original photograph, making it believable to many viewers at social media viewing size. However, a closer inspection reveals several telltale signs of AI generation. The most obvious issue is the front paw, which lacks proper anatomical structure and appears more like a furry mitten than a real polar bear paw. The rear legs also feel slightly disconnected from the body, and the overall body shape lacks the clear skeletal and muscular definition you would expect from a real bear. Other clues become apparent as you zoom in. Fine details such as whiskers, eye reflections, and fur edges become soft or inconsistent on close inspection. Perhaps most importantly, the image highlights how AI has improved dramatically. Five years ago the flaws would have been immediately obvious; today, the giveaway details are subtle and often only noticeable to wildlife photographers and people familiar with animal anatomy.

Thank you for being part of The Wildlife Collective. Together, we are helping build a deeper connection between people and the natural world while supporting the conservation of wildlife and wild places. Stay tuned for more stories from the field, conservation news, photography tips, and unforgettable wildlife encounters from around the globe.

Until next time, keep exploring, keep learning, and keep falling in love with the wild.

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Most of the time, change happens gradually. It begins with something small. One conversation that challenges the way you think. One opportunity that pushes you outside your comfort zone. One decision to say yes when it would have been easier to say no.

At the time, these moments often feel ordinary. We move on with our day, unaware that a new door has just opened. It is only years later, when we look back, that we realize how much that single moment mattered. The person we met became a lifelong friend. The trip we almost didn’t take sparked a passion that shaped our future. The opportunity we nearly declined led us down a path we could never have imagined.

But every once in a while, something different happens.

You are standing in a place, sharing a conversation, or experiencing something so profound that you can feel it as it unfolds. There is a voice inside you that says, remember this moment. You don’t know exactly how it will change your life, but you know that it will. The experience feels bigger than the day itself, as though you are standing at a crossroads without fully understanding where the road ahead leads.

I’ve felt that way a handful of times in my life.

In many ways, the journey that led to The Wildlife Collective began with a single bear, a small creek in Alaska, and a few unforgettable seconds that changed everything.

It was 2019. I was in Katmai National Park watching a brown bear patiently wait for salmon. It stood at the water’s edge, completely focused on the fish moving beneath the surface. The world seemed to slow down.

Then, without warning, the bear exploded into action.

It lunged into the creek directly in front of me, sending water flying in every direction as it attempted to catch a salmon. The splash was so close that droplets covered the front of my camera lens. For a split second, there was nothing else in the world except the bear, the water, and the raw power of that moment.

I still remember exactly how I felt.

Awe.

Wonder.

Excitement.

Gratitude.

And from this moment, something shifted inside me.

I realized that wildlife photography was about far more than creating beautiful images.

These very bears, and the incredible ecosystem that sustained them, were under threat from the proposed Pebble Mine. A massive mining project in the headwaters of Bristol Bay had the potential to jeopardize one of the greatest salmon ecosystems left on Earth. The salmon fed the bears. The bears shaped the landscape. Everything was connected.

As I watched that bear fishing in front of me, I understood something I had never fully understood before.

It wasn’t enough to simply document the wild.

I had to speak up for it.

For nearly a decade, I had worked at the World Bank as a governance and budgeting expert. My career taught me to think carefully, analyze complex problems, and bring together people with very different perspectives. Much of my work involved finding common ground, navigating competing interests, and building consensus. Those skills remain incredibly valuable, but standing beside that creek in Katmai, I realized there are moments when diplomacy is not enough.

For the first time in my life, I felt a responsibility to use my voice. To help others see what I had seen, care about what I had come to love, and protect what cannot protect itself. To be an advocate for bears, for wild places, and for the species and ecosystems whose future depends on the choices we make today.

That realization ultimately became the foundation for The Wildlife Collective.

Yes, we lead wildlife adventures and photography tours. But at its heart, The Wildlife Collective was built on a simple belief: that meaningful experiences in nature can inspire people to care, and that people who care are more likely to protect what remains.

That bear never knew it, but in many ways it changed the course of my life.

A few seconds. One splash. One unforgettable encounter.

One moment that transformed me from someone who photographed wildlife into someone who felt called to advocate for it.

Looking back on my life, I can trace so many of the things that matter most to a handful of moments that seemed insignificant at the time.

A single wildlife encounter.

Meeting one person.

Booking one flight.

Choosing one path instead of another.

I have met people in remote corners of the world who later became close friends.

I have followed opportunities that seemed uncertain at the time, only to discover they led exactly where I needed to go.

I have watched conservation projects, partnerships, and friendships emerge from encounters that lasted only a few minutes.

Sometimes it feels as though life is less about finding the perfect plan and more about remaining open to possibility.

That doesn’t mean every moment is life-changing.

Most aren’t.

But every once in a while, one arrives that alters the direction of your life.

And perhaps that is one of life’s greatest gifts.

The understanding that no matter where you are today, your future may be only one moment away from becoming something entirely different.

So stay curious.

Keep exploring.

Talk to people.

Take the trip.

Ask the question.

Follow the opportunity.

Because somewhere out there is a moment you cannot yet see.

And it might just change your life forever.

Quote of the Week

Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life.

— Naeem Callaway

Tour Updates

I am back home for at least a few weeks and will be spending that time finalizing our 2027 tour calendar and beginning to add 2028 tour dates as well. As a reminder, if there is a particular tour or destination you are interested in, please let me know. Many of our tours fill well in advance, and I’d be happy to discuss options, answer questions, or help you find the adventure that is the best fit for you.

2026 Tours with Availability

Aug 16-20: Alaska Bear Camp (4 spots)

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 24-30: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 30 - Dec 5: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Feel free to reply to this email with any questions, feedback, or just to share your latest wildlife photos. Feel free to share this message with fellow nature lovers, too—let’s grow this community together!

Thank you for being a part of The Wildlife Collective community. Stay tuned for more updates, conservation news, and incredible wildlife encounters!

Best regards,

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

It is one of my favorite places on Earth. Few places offer the chance to walk through ancient rainforest and encounter wild orangutans living freely in their natural habitat. Every time I return, I am reminded of how special these animals are and how fortunate we are to share a planet with them.

But on this most recent visit, I am frustrated.

More frustrated than I have ever been.

Despite clear government regulations prohibiting the feeding of orangutans and other wildlife, feeding is happening throughout the park with a frequency I have never witnessed before. In many cases, it has become normalized.

The feeding typically happens in two ways.

The first is indirect, but it is still wrong. Guides throw fruit scraps into the forest after meals, and orangutans learn to search for and consume these discarded food items.

The second is far more deliberate and far more common. Guides actively place bananas and other fruits at the base of trees or along trails to lure orangutans down from the canopy and closer to tourists, creating an encounter that would otherwise be unlikely to happen naturally. The orangutan climbs down, grabs the bait, and suddenly guests find themselves just a few meters away from one of the world's most iconic great apes. To many visitors, it feels like an incredible wildlife experience.

But what they are actually witnessing is a wild animal being conditioned by food.

The irony is that most visitors have no idea it is happening. They assume they are seeing natural behavior when, in reality, the moment has been manipulated.

The consequences go far beyond creating a misleading wildlife experience.

Feeding changes behavior. Orangutans that learn to associate people with food begin spending more time around humans and less time behaving naturally. It increases the likelihood of disease transmission between humans and great apes, something conservationists have worried about for decades. It can alter movement patterns, social interactions, and feeding ecology. Over time, it creates dependency and reduces the very wildness that people come to see.

For me, it also destroys something less tangible but equally important.

The magic.

There is nothing quite like earning a truly wild encounter. Trekking through the rainforest, searching for hours, and then suddenly finding an orangutan feeding high in the canopy. Knowing that every behavior you are witnessing is entirely natural. Knowing that the animal chose to be there.

That is what makes wildlife encounters meaningful.

When food is involved, the moment changes completely. Instead of feeling privileged to witness nature, you are watching a performance shaped by human interference.

The most frustrating part is that there appears to be very little enforcement.

The rules already exist.

Everyone knows the rules.

Yet many guides continue feeding wildlife because there are few consequences and because close encounters often lead to larger tips from visitors who don’t understand what is happening behind the scenes.

What makes this even more frustrating is that feeding orangutans is completely unnecessary. Gunung Leuser is one of the most biologically rich rainforests on Earth, with an abundance of natural food sources including figs, fruits, leaves, bark, flowers, and insects. Orangutans have survived here for thousands of years without human assistance. They do not need bananas from guides to find food.

This is not a problem that can be solved by blaming a handful of individuals. Many local guides depend on tourism to support their families. The incentives are simply pointing in the wrong direction.

If we want to improve the situation, we need to address those incentives.

We need stronger enforcement of existing regulations.

We need better education for guides and visitors about why feeding wildlife is harmful.

We need tour operators to take a firm stance against feeding.

We need travelers to ask questions and choose responsible guides who prioritize ethical wildlife viewing over guaranteed close encounters.

And we need more awareness within the broader wildlife photography and tourism community.

Every person who visits Gunung Leuser has a choice.

Do you want to see a wild orangutan behaving naturally?

Or do you want to see an orangutan that has been lured closer with food?

The future of wildlife tourism depends on choosing the first option.

Gunung Leuser remains one of the greatest places in the world to see wild orangutans. The rainforest is extraordinary. The wildlife is extraordinary. The people who work hard to protect it are extraordinary.

That is exactly why this issue matters.

People protect what they love. But before people can protect wildlife, wildlife must remain wild.

If we truly care about orangutans and their future, we need to stop rewarding the practices that are turning wild encounters into staged ones and start supporting the guides and operators who are doing things the right way.

Because the most memorable wildlife encounters are the ones that cannot be guaranteed, manipulated, or bought. They are earned through patience, respect, and a willingness to let the wild reveal itself on its own terms. Those are the moments that stay with us for a lifetime, not because we created them, but because, for a brief moment, we were welcomed into a story much larger than our own.

Quote of the Week

The best way to not feel hopeless is to get up and do something.

— Barack Obama

Tour Updates

As a reminder, we have just had a few spots open up on our August 16-20, 2026 Alaska Bear Camp tour. If you love bears and want one of the best bear-viewing experiences on the planet, this is the trip for you.

Today is our last full day in Sumatra with the orangutans before beginning the long journey home. Moments like this always make me reflective. The older I get, the more I realize that the things I value most are not possessions or achievements, but experiences that challenge me, inspire me, and deepen my appreciation for life. Standing in a rainforest with wild orangutans is one of those experiences. It reminds me how much there is still to learn, how much there is still worth protecting, and how fortunate we are to share this planet with such extraordinary creatures. If there is one lesson travel has taught me, it is that a meaningful life is built through curiosity, gratitude, and a willingness to keep exploring. The world has a remarkable way of rewarding those who remain open to it, and some of life's greatest gifts are found far beyond our comfort zones, waiting in places we have never been and experiences we have yet to imagine.

2026 Tours with Availability

Aug 16-20: Alaska Bear Camp (4 spots)

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 24-30: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 30 - Dec 5: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Feel free to reply to this email with any questions, feedback, or just to share your latest wildlife photos. Feel free to share this message with fellow nature lovers, too—let’s grow this community together!

Thank you for being a part of The Wildlife Collective community. Stay tuned for more updates, conservation news, and incredible wildlife encounters!

Best regards,

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

That is probably the biggest thing I’ve learned after traveling to nearly 90 countries across the world.

When you spend enough time in wild places, remote villages, busy cities, tiny mountain towns, or sitting around campfires with people whose lives look completely different from your own, something starts to happen. The stereotypes fall apart.

The world becomes more human.

Over the years, I’ve spent countless hours with local communities living alongside wildlife in some of the wildest places left on Earth.

And one thing keeps standing out to me over and over again:

Most people are good.

Most people care deeply about their families. Most people want safety, opportunity, purpose, and connection. Most people are proud of where they come from and want to share it with you.

And honestly, in many places, people also seem happier.

Not because life is easier. Often it is much harder.

But because there is sometimes a deeper connection to community, family, nature, and presence. Less comparison. Less noise. Less pressure to constantly prove yourself.

It has made me realize that despite how much we have in countries like Canada and the United States, there are also a lot of forces constantly pushing us toward dissatisfaction. Social media. Consumerism. Comparison. The feeling that we always need more. More success. More money. More followers. More things.

Travel has reminded me that happiness often looks much simpler than that.

A good meal shared with people you love.

A conversation around a fire.

Kids laughing in the street.

A sunrise.

Purposeful work.

Time in nature.

Community.

Travel has also changed me in ways I never expected.

It has taught me adaptability. When you spend enough time traveling, flights get canceled, vehicles break down, luggage goes missing, weather changes, and plans fall apart. You learn that getting frustrated rarely helps. You adapt, adjust, and move forward.

It has taught me patience. Wildlife doesn’t appear on demand. Neither do life’s best moments. Some of my most meaningful experiences have come after days of waiting, uncertainty, or discomfort.

It has taught me humility. The world is so much bigger than any one person, country, culture, or way of thinking. The more places I visit, the less convinced I become that I have the answers.

It has taught me respect. Respect for different cultures, different beliefs, different ways of living, and different relationships with nature. You don’t have to agree with everyone to learn from them.

And perhaps most importantly, it has taught me curiosity. Every person has a story. Every place has a history. Every landscape has lessons to offer if we’re willing to listen.

Travel has made the world feel both bigger and smaller at the same time.

Bigger because the diversity of this planet is honestly overwhelming. The landscapes. The languages. The food. The cultures. The wildlife. The different ways people see the world. There is so much beauty out there that no algorithm or screen could ever fully prepare you for.

But also smaller because the more people you meet, the more connected humanity starts to feel.

You stop seeing “other people.”

You just see people.

Travel has also made me realize how fragile so much of this world really is.

I’ve watched rainforests disappear for palm oil plantations. I’ve seen glaciers retreat. I’ve visited places where wildlife populations have collapsed within a single generation. I’ve seen cultures trying desperately to hold onto traditions while the modern world moves faster and faster around them.

Some places feel eternal when you first arrive.

But they are not.

That realization changes you.

It makes you appreciate moments more deeply. A wild orangutan moving through the rainforest canopy. A polar bear walking across sea ice. A leopard appearing at dusk. A conversation with someone whose life experience is completely different from your own.

Travel has taught me that the world is not something to conquer or check off a list.

It is something to respect.

Something to learn from.

Something to protect.

And honestly, every single trip still teaches me something new. About photography. About conservation. About human nature. About myself.

That is why I keep going.

Not because I’m chasing countries.

But because I’m chasing perspective.

And the more of the world I see, the more I realize how much I still have left to learn. The world is more beautiful, more diverse, and more fragile than I ever imagined. And despite all the challenges we face, it remains full of remarkable people, extraordinary places, and reasons for hope.

Quote of the Week

One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.

— Henry Miller

Tour Updates: Bear Camp Openings

We have just had a few spots open up on our August 16-20, 2026 Alaska Bear Camp tour. If you love bears and want one of the best bear-viewing experiences on the planet, this is the trip for you. During peak salmon season, we spend our days alongside wild brown bears as they fish for red salmon, interact with one another, and prepare for the long winter ahead. Based in a remote camp in the heart of bear country, our experienced team keeps you safe while providing an incredibly immersive wilderness experience. We are the only operator in the area staying out from sunrise to sunset, maximizing every opportunity to witness the remarkable lives of these bears. From close encounters with mothers and cubs to the drama of bears fishing in rushing rivers, the number of magical moments is simply extraordinary. Combined with comfortable accommodations and what we believe is the nicest bear camp in Alaska, this is the ultimate wildlife experience.

2026 Tours with Availability

Aug 16-20: Alaska Bear Camp (4 spots)

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 24-30: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 30 - Dec 5: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Feel free to reply to this email with any questions, feedback, or just to share your latest wildlife photos. Feel free to share this message with fellow nature lovers, too—let’s grow this community together!

Thank you for being a part of The Wildlife Collective community. Stay tuned for more updates, conservation news, and incredible wildlife encounters!

Best regards,

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Wild Sumatran elephants are incredibly rare. Fewer than 2,500 are believed to remain in the wild and their numbers continue to decline due to habitat loss, palm oil expansion, and conflict with humans. They are a subspecies of the Asian elephant, smaller than African elephants but still absolutely enormous animals capable of eating more than 100 kilograms of vegetation a day. Compared to African elephants, they have smaller rounded ears, smoother skin, and only some males develop large visible tusks. Sumatran elephants are also known for being slightly smaller and darker than other Asian elephant populations, adaptations that suit the dense tropical rainforests they call home. They are intelligent, emotional, highly social, and critically important to the rainforest ecosystem. Yet despite all of that, most people who visit Sumatra will never see one in the wild.

Yesterday, we received word that there were wild elephants somewhere about 1–2 hours away from us. Darma asked me if I wanted to go and try for them and I immediately said yes. I honestly didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know much about the experience, how realistic it was, or if we would even find them at all. But I knew I wanted to go.

We left at 7am and started driving north along the border of Gunung Leuser National Park. Along the way we stopped to grab lunch for later and continued driving through endless rows of palm oil plantations. It was one of those stark reminders of just how fragmented this landscape has become. Rainforest. Plantation. Rainforest. Plantation. A constant push and pull between the wild and human expansion.

About two hours later we arrived.

We got out of the vehicle and I quickly realized we were standing in a government-owned palm oil plantation right beside the forest edge. We met our local guide and off we went on foot.

Being in the border zone, there was no overhead cover like you get deep in the rainforest. No canopy to shield you from the heat. The sun was intense and it felt much hotter than trekking for orangutans. Within just a few minutes of walking, we spotted our first elephant several hundred meters away.

I was already amazed.

Just seeing one felt special.

We slowly repositioned and managed to get within roughly 100 meters before the elephant disappeared back into thicker cover. I was thrilled. I honestly thought that might be the moment of the day.

But the best was still to come.

We continued walking and eventually went to try for another elephant. This time we got incredibly close. Around 20 meters away.

On foot.

It is hard to put into words what that feels like. The elephant was partially obscured behind a bush but I could see it looking directly at me. I remember feeling completely on edge. Adrenaline. Respect. Awe. Fear. All at once.

I shifted a few steps to my left to get a clearer angle and that’s when everything changed.

The elephant bluff charged me.

It happened so fast.

With bears, you stand your ground.

With elephants, you run.

And I ran.

The whole thing only lasted a few seconds and ended well, but it completely took my breath away. It was one of those moments where your body reacts before your brain even catches up. Pure instinct. Pure wildness. A moment I will never forget for the rest of my life.

After that encounter, we continued tracking elephant footprints through the plantation edge and eventually saw two more elephants. Four elephants total.

By this point the sun was brutally hot, so we headed back to the vehicle, sat together, ate lunch, and just reveled in what we had experienced.

Then we made the long drive back to the lodge.

And honestly, I am still on cloud nine.

It’s moments like this that stay with you forever. Moments that remind you how wild and beautiful this planet still is. Moments that make you feel part of something bigger in the best possible way.

Sumatra is one of the most extraordinary places I have ever experienced. Orangutans swinging through ancient rainforest. Tigers moving unseen through the jungle. Hornbills flying overhead. Elephants surviving along fractured forest edges beside endless palm plantations. It is breathtaking, diverse, alive, and at the same time, incredibly fragile.

You can feel both realities everywhere here. The beauty and the loss. The hope and the pressure.

Experiences like today only deepen my desire to keep exploring this planet, to keep searching for these moments of connection with the wild, and to keep telling stories that matter. Stories that help people care. Stories that inspire conservation. Stories that remind us what is still left to protect before it is gone.

When I was young, I never could have imagined that one day I would be tracking wild elephants on foot in Sumatra. Yet somehow, here I am, living that life.

And more than ever, I feel grateful for this path, for these experiences, and for the opportunity to use storytelling in service of something bigger than myself.

Because the wild matters.

And these moments are worth fighting for.

Quote of the Week

The Earth has music for those who listen.

— George Santayana

Tour Updates: You can track elephants on foot

We will now be incorporating tracking wild Sumatran elephants on foot into all of our future Sumatran orangutan tours. This is an incredibly exclusive experience with access arranged just for our small group, allowing us to quietly track and observe these endangered elephants in the wild alongside local experts. We’re always trying to push a little further to find the most meaningful and immersive wildlife experiences possible, the kinds of experiences that still feel truly wild and deeply connected to the animals and places themselves, and adding wild elephant tracking in Sumatra feels exactly like that. Very few people ever get the opportunity to experience these elephants this way. I’m currently finalizing several departures for next March, April, and May 2027. Sumatra has become one of my favorite places on the planet. The combination of ancient rainforest, orangutans, elephants, incredible biodiversity, and the feeling of wilderness here is unlike anywhere else I’ve experienced. If joining us in Sumatra is something that interests you, please let me know.

2026 Tours with Availability

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 24-30: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 30 - Dec 5: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Feel free to reply to this email with any questions, feedback, or just to share your latest wildlife photos. Feel free to share this message with fellow nature lovers, too—let’s grow this community together!

Thank you for being a part of The Wildlife Collective community. Stay tuned for more updates, conservation news, and incredible wildlife encounters!

Best regards,

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

Because the truth is this:

Not every incredible wildlife photo tells an ethical story.

And sometimes, the more dramatic the image, the more uncomfortable the reality behind it becomes.

Over the years, I’ve spent thousands of hours alongside bears, orangutans, gorillas, big cats, and countless other species in some of the wildest places left on Earth. I’ve watched photographers show extraordinary patience and respect for animals. I’ve also seen behavior that deeply concerns me. The difficult part is that unethical practices happen far more often than most people realize.

One of the biggest and most controversial topics is baiting.

Should we bait animals for photographs?

For me, the answer is clear.

I am firmly against it.

That includes intentionally feeding predators to bring them closer to photographers. It includes placing food to manipulate behavior. It includes using calls, scents, or lures to force interactions that would not naturally occur. It includes creating artificial situations purely for content.

Because at some point, the question becomes:

What are we actually photographing anymore?

Are we documenting wild behavior?

Or are we documenting human manipulation?

A wildlife photograph should represent something real. A moment that existed naturally. A glimpse into an animal’s true life, behavior, and environment. The power of wildlife photography has always been authenticity. It’s the idea that you witnessed something wild on nature’s terms, not your own.

The moment we start altering behavior for the image, the story changes.

And yes, there are grey areas.

There are situations where baiting has historically existed in wildlife tourism and photography industries around the world. Some bird hides use food. Some researchers use attractants for scientific monitoring. In certain conservation situations, supplemental feeding may occur for species recovery programs.

But even then, I think we have to ask difficult questions.

Does the image educate people honestly?

Does it create dependency?

Does it alter behavior?

Does it increase risk to the animal later?

Does it change predator-prey dynamics?

Does it condition animals to humans?

And perhaps most importantly:

Would this animal have behaved this way if humans were not involved?

That matters.

Because wildlife photography has influence now more than ever before. A single image can reach millions of people within hours. It can shape public perception about a species. It can inspire conservation. But it can also normalize harmful practices without viewers ever understanding what happened behind the scenes.

One of the hardest ethical questions is this:

What if someone else baits the animal and you just happen to be there?

That happens more than people think.

A photographer arrives somewhere. Another guide or lodge has already conditioned an animal. Food has already been placed. Behavior has already been altered. Suddenly you are standing there with a camera watching an incredible moment unfold.

Do you take the shot?

Everyone has to answer that question for themselves.

But personally, I think we need to be honest about what those images represent. Even if you did not physically place the bait yourself, you are still benefiting from the situation. And if those photographs are shared without context, they can unintentionally endorse or normalize the practice.

This is not about attacking individual photographers. Wildlife photography is full of nuance and complicated situations. Many people are learning. Many don’t even realize what is happening behind certain images online.

But I do think the industry needs more transparency.

Because ethical wildlife photography is not just about the final image.

It’s about the process behind it.

How close did you get?

Did the animal change its behavior because of you?

Did it stop feeding?

Did it show signs of stress?

Did you alter its movement?

Did you put the shot above the animal’s wellbeing?

Those questions matter far more to me than sharpness, megapixels, or social media engagement.

At The Wildlife Collective, this is something we think about constantly.

We are striving to become the most ethical wildlife tourism company in the world.

That is a huge statement, and we know we will never be perfect. But it is the standard we are aiming for every single day.

We do not bait animals.

We do not chase animals.

We do not crowd wildlife.

We do not force encounters.

We leave if animals show signs of stress.

We prioritize behavior and wellbeing over photographs.

And we design our trips around time, patience, light, respect, and genuine wild encounters.

Sometimes that means we miss the shot.

Sometimes the animal disappears.

Sometimes nature gives us nothing.

And honestly?

That is part of what makes wildlife photography so special.

The unpredictability is the point.

You cannot truly photograph wilderness while simultaneously controlling it.

Some of my favorite wildlife moments ever were imperfect. A bear disappearing into fog. A gorilla barely visible through dense forest. A fleeting glance from a leopard at dusk. Those moments felt real because they were real.

The older I get, the less interested I am in perfect wildlife photographs.

And the more interested I become in honest ones.

Because in the end, I think the best wildlife photographers are not the people who can manipulate nature most effectively.

They are the people willing to respect it enough not to.

Quote of the Week

Integrity is doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.

— C. S. Lewis

Tour Updates: India 2027

I’ve now officially posted both of these India departures for April 2027 and I truly love them for completely different reasons.

• Jawai Leopards & Rabari — April 12–16, 2027
• Tigers & Sloth Bears — April 16–25, 2027

Jawai is about so much more than just incredible leopard sightings. It’s the epic, almost otherworldly landscape, the powerful story of coexistence between people and predators, the cultural photography experience of walking with the Rabari community, and the deeper cultural elements we build into the tour that make it so special to me. And then there are the tigers. There is simply no other animal on earth that makes my heart race like a tiger walking out onto the road in front of you. We have an incredible setup at a beautiful 5 star accommodation in Ranthambhore, it is prime tiger season, and we also have an excellent chance for multiple sloth bear encounters throughout the trip. Both departures are intentionally very small groups with just 3 guests to allow for a much more personal and photography focused experience, so please let me know if you are interested!

2026 Tours with Availability

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 24-30: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 30 - Dec 5: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Feel free to reply to this email with any questions, feedback, or just to share your latest wildlife photos. Feel free to share this message with fellow nature lovers, too—let’s grow this community together!

Thank you for being a part of The Wildlife Collective community. Stay tuned for more updates, conservation news, and incredible wildlife encounters!

Best regards,

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective

The recent decision to resume the aerial slaughter of brown bears in Alaska’s Mulchatna region is one of those moments.

For years, I’ve spent my life alongside bears. I’ve watched them fish quietly in remote rivers at sunrise. I’ve seen mothers carefully guide tiny cubs across sedge meadows. I’ve watched bears play, rest, struggle, survive, and simply exist in the wild places they belong. These are intelligent, emotionally complex animals that shape entire ecosystems. And now, once again, the government of Alaska is shooting them from helicopters.

Not for food.

Not for human safety.

But because the state believes killing predators will somehow “fix” a declining caribou herd.

The numbers are staggering. Since this predator control program began, at least 180 brown bears have already been killed from aircraft between 2023 and 2024. That includes cubs and females with cubs. In 2023 alone, 99 bears were killed in less than a month, including 20 cubs. In 2024, another 81 brown bears were killed.

And despite legal victories against the program, the killing has resumed again in 2026.

This is happening across an enormous 40,000 square mile area of southwest Alaska. An area bordering some of the most iconic bear ecosystems on Earth, including regions near Katmai National Park and Preserve, Lake Clark National Park and Preserve, and the world famous Brooks Falls bear region.

The justification is the struggling Mulchatna caribou herd, which has declined dramatically from roughly 200,000 animals in the 1990s to around 15,000 today.

But here’s the part that many people are missing.

Many scientists and former wildlife biologists dispute the idea that bears are the primary problem.

Research and field data increasingly point toward habitat change, climate impacts, nutrition stress, disease, and ecosystem shifts as major drivers of the caribou decline. In fact, according to reporting tied to the state’s own data, only 1 out of 44 documented calf mortalities in 2024 was attributed to a bear.

One.

Yet the response is to gun down bears from helicopters.

What makes this even harder to stomach is that courts have already ruled parts of the program unlawful. In March 2025, Alaska Superior Court ruled the original program was “unlawfully adopted and therefore void.” Another judge later stated the state acted in “bad faith” when continuing parts of the program.

Still, the killing continues.

I think one of the most dangerous things in wildlife management is when we start treating predators as obstacles instead of essential parts of functioning ecosystems. Bears are not villains in some simplified story where removing them magically restores balance. Nature is infinitely more complicated than that.

And honestly, there’s something deeply heartbreaking about the contrast here.

Thousands of people travel from around the world to Alaska because they dream of seeing wild brown bears. They save for years to experience these animals ethically and respectfully. Entire local economies benefit from bear tourism, photography, guiding, and conservation storytelling. Bears inspire people to care about the natural world. They are one of the great symbols of wild Alaska.

Yet in another part of the same state, those same animals are being chased down and shot from helicopters.

As someone who has spent countless days living beside bears in remote Alaska, I can tell you this with certainty: these animals are far more than statistics on a management spreadsheet.

They are individuals.

And once you spend enough time with them, you realize something else too.

The real solution to conservation problems is rarely violence disguised as management.

Especially when the science itself remains deeply contested.

We should be investing more into habitat research, ecosystem restoration, climate resilience, and long term science based management. Not repeating predator control policies that many experts argue have failed for decades.

In partnership with the Alaska Wildlife Alliance, I will be closely following this situation and continuing to learn more as additional information comes to light. I’ll keep sharing updates as this develops because I truly believe these bears, and the wild ecosystems they help shape, are worth fighting for.

Quote of the Week

The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.

— Mahatma Gandhi

Tour Updates

Hello from Singapore, where I have just arrived after a long 15 hour flight from Vancouver. Despite my best intentions, I didn’t get nearly as much work done on the plane as I had hoped. Over the next few days, I’ll be finalizing our 2027 Borneo and Sumatran orangutan tours, along with more details for our 2027 Nunavut Polar Bears tours and our Cantabrian Brown Bears in Spain tours for May and June 2027. A lot is coming together behind the scenes right now and I can’t wait to share more soon.

2026 Tours with Availability

​Sept 2-9: Kenya Big Cat Safari ​(2 spots)

​Sept 13-21: Brazil Jaguars​ (2 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 24-30: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

*NEW ​Nov 30 - Dec 5: Mountain Gorillas​ (3 spots)

Click to see our full list of tours

Feel free to reply to this email with any questions, feedback, or just to share your latest wildlife photos. Feel free to share this message with fellow nature lovers, too—let’s grow this community together!

Thank you for being a part of The Wildlife Collective community. Stay tuned for more updates, conservation news, and incredible wildlife encounters!

Best regards,

Zac Mills​
​The Wildlife Collective