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Smoke billowed above the Piute Fire. I could see it, a hundred miles away, as I drove to my assignment in northern LA County on June 30.

The fire was “blowing up” and pumping out thick, blackish smoke and ash that rose fast in superheated air currents. Ice crystals formed a silvery crown thousands of feet up over the dark plume, it looked like a beautiful thundercloud over the Sierras.

At this point, firefighters have told me the icy crown could grow heavy and collapse into the plume, forcing strong winds back into the fire to blow it in many directions at once. This fire was taking off and communities were threatened. I informed my editors in New York, shot and filed my assignment and then I drove north.

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The Piute fire was a mountain fire with tall pine forests in the upper elevations. Temperatures reached the 90s and above in the lower reaches. A web of back country dirt roads into the fire started an hour away from the nearest wireless signal I could use for filing my pictures. The smoke plume prevented me from using a satellite phone so driving took up much of my time.

Falling trees and branches called “widow makers” were a constant threat in the charred forest. One freshly fallen tree blocking a jeep trail reminded me that a small chain saw and a steel tow chain could become life savers.

Another, potentially more dangerous fire, was coming to life and many firefighters were suddenly sent to the seaside city of Goleta, California, leaving one flank of the Piute fire with few to watch over it. I left too.

David McNew/Getty Images

Official reports at the time indicated only a 35-acre blaze but fire officials knew better. A massive response was sent as it began to threaten thousands of urban and suburban homes. The Gap fire quickly became the official top priority.

It was different from the Piute fire, instead of blazing through forests of pine where residents were few and expansion meant running deeper into the wilderness, the Gap fire chewed through brushy hills to reach the city.

It was in a “Wildland-Urban Interface Fire Area” which meant that it had the luxury of staying in a hotel with a bed and a shower with internet access - all just a few miles from the fire. At the Piute fire, two nighs ago, I’d only slept a few hours in my car until the blazing hot sunrise woke me up, drenched in sweat.

It also meant paved roads on three sides of the fire, making for easy drives to some of the better places from which to observe the firefighting efforts. For the first time in days I saw other members of the press, many from LA.  Ocean views at the Gap fire were scenic but more importantly for me, the Pacific Ocean kept the air many degrees cooler than the Piute fire.

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It is the most dangerous time of year right now, when powerful Santa Ana winds rip through mountain passes. Conditions have never been more favorable for wildfires to grow monstrous proportions.

News photographers in California could be just one arsonist, lightning strike or cigarette away from yet another historic fire disaster this  year.

Brent Stirton for Reportage by Getty Images

We arrived with my husband Jean Pierre Laffont in Kenya in July, 2007.

It was our first safari. At the urging of some of our African friends, we wanted to experience the African wildlife and to watch the big animals, especially the lions and the elephants, in their natural habitat.

We had a fantastic time photographing those stunningly beautiful animals in their majestic landscape. It was love at first sight and we felt we had found paradise on earth.

So it was a great shock when, one morning, at a newsstand in Nairobi, we saw Newsweek magazine and its cover story “Slaughter in the Jungle” (August 6 2007) with the shocking photographs taken by Brent Stirton of the killing of the gorillas in the jungle of Congo.

In this extraordinary reportage, there is one unforgettable image: The hard hitting photograph of the 600 pounds silverback gorilla dead body carried by 20 men on a wooden stretcher. Murdered is this magnificent animal, king of the great ape, this pacific giant preoccupied only by the well being of his family, this peaceful vegetarian whose territory is taken away from him. This truly heart-breaking photo inevitably brings to mind the King Kong legend. We all have a deep emotional connection with King Kong, a symbol of strength and fierceness, killed by the cruelty of man.

We killed King Kong again but this time for real and we are distroying the paradise we have yet to discover and understand.

“Why?” We keep asking ourselves. “What men would do that?” And even these days, the rangers, the park officials and the conservationists are not sure.

The enemies are everywhere and the crimes are no longer committed only by small and organized-money-hungry groups. Poachers, hunters, bushmeat eaters, habitat destruction builders, merchants and contraband wildlife traffickers are now organized criminal gangs and armed militia men. Authorities suspect links between illegal trafficking and terrorism groups.

Violence, vandalism, human greed and cruelty are destroying innocence and beauty and the consequences are devastating, not just for our future but the future of our children as well.

It is too late now to undo what has been done to this family of gorillas in the jungle of Congo but it is not too late to expose the facts, alert public attention and help bring solutions. This is why Brent Stirton’s photos are so important. They show us the unbearable crime, bring in the spotlight the plight of animals and force us to pay attention to conservation issues.

Like Nick Ut’s photograph of the naked little girl running down the road in Vietnam had a decisive influence of the shift of public opinion toward the war in Vietnam, Brent Stirton’s photo of the dead gorilla being carried away from the wilderness of the jungle in Congo, is a warning cry we need to pay attention to and do something about, if we want to save us and the world we live in.

Eliane Laffont, March 10, 2008

From February 2007 through July 2007 I worked with CNN’s Planet in Peril crew running around the globe to survey the state of Earth’s health. We experienced just about every possible climate, every weather condition. I enjoyed the pleasure of a parasite’s company for close to three months after our shoot in Brazil. One of the cameramen was bitten by a spider and had to have his knee lanced to relieve the swelling. Working with Anderson Cooper, Jeff Corwin and Sanjay Gupta we flew, drove, boated, and walked thousands of miles on almost every continent. We slept on more than our fair share of concrete floors. And no, hammocks are not conducive to a good nights sleep. Occasionally our meals of Pringles and Powerbars were punctuated by buffets. Exhaustion and elation create an interesting combination. By the end we were tanked. But we knew it was worth it. Here are some pictures from the journey:

Phnom Penh, Cambodia – March 2007
Releasing birds

Cambodia is a fascinating place. The specter of the Khmer Rouge regime hangs over the country. It’s a predominantly young population. Exceedingly poor. On the streets vendors release a handful of birds for a handful of coins. People walk up, make a prayer and the birds fly free. Environmental activists are doing their best to stop illegal poaching and wildlife trading, but they have their work cut out for them.

Kaktovik, Alaska, USA – April 2007
Polar Bear

He’s not dead. Just sleeping. Sawing logs in the article circle— white on white. We were working with scientists from United States Geological Survey (USGS) doing aerial and on the ground studies of the polar bear population outside of Kaktovik, Alaska, USA. Had to be one of the most remote “towns” I’ve ever seen— at least in the States. Seriously out in the middle of nowhere— cold as all get out— harsh place. But you wouldn’t suspect it from the sleeping bear— conked out on a tranquilizer cocktail— dreaming of a seal buffet. I wanted to shoot something graphic, something clean— and believe me— that far north in Alaska, there are few things to clutter a frame. The white is endless. In 360 degrees it’s endless. Polar bears are not currently on the endangered species list, but there’s a growing movement to put them on preemptively. Protection rather than reaction. That’s the issue we were looking at, and that’s why this one is sleeping. Kicking out a few ZZZZZ’s so USGS can safely gather the data it needs to measure the health of the population. He’ll wake up about an hour later. But by that time we’re on our way— helicopter blades warming up, in search of another bear.

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, USA – July 2007
Tree and sky

A tree trunk leans over the mid-morning sky’s reflection in a small lake. I’m drawn towards abstractions— and the contrast of the jagged branches against gossamer clouds.

Lake Chad, Chad – June 2007
Donkeys

Ribs. The ribs were the first thing that jumped out at me when we stopped the convoy of Land Cruisers at this watering hole. If the health of livestock is any indication the overall health of the people who tend to them, then I knew this was a bad sign. I don’t think anyone has ever described a donkey as a charismatic animal, but these animals were so emaciated they stumbled about purely on the strength of their skeletal systems. All muscle and fat long ago left their bodies.

Lake Chad, Chad – June 2007
Fabric in front of well

With heat easily cresting 115 degrees Fahrenheit, water is an absolute necessity in central Africa. And with Lake Chad seemingly shrinking, an already scare resource is becoming all the more vital. There is water in Africa, but so much of it is dirty, polluted by chemicals or livestock, or other people. Filling up their jerry cans women from a local village gathered around a single spigot, their water lifeline.

Lake Chad, Chad – June 2007
Fish

This one really is dead. A fish washed up on the banks of Lake Chad. We’ve heard the lake is shrinking, fish populations dwindling, and overall size of the remaining fish diminishing. This guy was about the size of my palm. Dead for who knows how long. The water startled the flies every time the waves lapped at the fish’s decaying body. While there are many dead fish in many lakes in many parts of the world, I felt like this one hinted at the relative health of Lake Chad, and the direction it’s heading.

Bangkok, Thailand – March 2007
Woman in boat

The floating market outside of Bangkok, early morning, weird light, weird shadows. There are bridges that pass over the water as vendors paddle up and down hawking produce. It’s pretty touristy. That’s probably the main reason it still exists. But I showed up early and wanted to look for colorful photos as a backdrop to Thai culture. The mangoes looked fantastic— they’re great in Asia. I like the odd, dark shapes angled down the middle of the frame. It’s shadows dancing on the rippling water. It’s motion frozen at 1/125 of a second; the pause button hit on a liquid tango.

Kraho Village, Brazil – February 2007
Kraho boy

The thupp-thupp sound of the helicopter brought the whole village out from their mud huts as we landed in a grass field in the Kraho village on the outskirts of the Amazon. We spent two days there, overnight in sleeping bags on a concrete floor under a straw roof. When it wasn’t drizzling, it was full on raining. We had a bit of sun, but even when it disappeared it was still warm. Most of the Kraho, men and women, wore little more than shorts. And they gathered around us as we gathered footage. After we had been in the village for a couple hours, the village chief decided we all needed to be inducted into the tribe. That meant receiving tribal names and markings on our arms with a blue dye. For some reason, not one of us in the whole crew thought to ask how long it would take for the dye to wash off. And so began the next two weeks of weird looks after we left the Kraho village and went back into the Brazilian cities— I’m sure we were mistaken for a motley band of rabid sports fans or something, blue rings and lines up and down our arms. As the Kraho gave us the tribal markings, they also gave us tribal names. Mine was “dead fish”, which I thought was a joke until our translator admonished me not to laugh. Hmm. I’m still hoping that’s not a reflection of my personality. At least I avoided the “White Pig” moniker applied to another member of the crew. Bullet dodged…sort of.