This story is one I was both sad and eager to write. Sad because of the death of Pope Francis at 88, one of the most extraordinary leaders of the global Catholic Church in generations; eager because Francis in a very tangible way brought me to Mongabay; I’ve been covering for the past decade his ceaseless crusade to implore people of all faiths to protect “God’s creation” and fight climate change we are all making worse.

In 2015, I had recently pivoted from local news reporting to international environmental reporting after a nudge and plenty of inspiration from my friend and colleague Miles Silman, a leading tropical ecologist at Wake Forest University, where we both teach. That summer, while I was teaching a summer session for Wake students in Rome, I was contacted by Jon Sawyer, founder and then CEO of the Pulitzer Center, with an offer to travel to Latin America — ethnic home of Pope Francis — and evaluate whether people there (overwhelmingly Catholic) were apt to listen to and follow his teachings in Laudato Si, a Catholic teaching document of the highest order, and the first focused exclusively on climate change, environmental degradation and humankind’s heavy hand in destroying the planet. The encyclical made global headlines, inspired environmental activism and incited a growing number of enemies. It’s spirit is woven throughout the preamble of the historic Paris Agreement on climate change of 2015.

I said yes to Jon Sawyer’s offer and chose to report from all over Peru for three weeks. Enrique Ortiz, my friend and Peruvian biologist, agreed to be my fixer, and my oldest daughter Emilia came along for two of those weeks as my photographer. The stories I produced enabled me to make a real pitch to Mongabay founder and editor-in-chief Rhett Butler. He agreed to take my stores, assigned Glenn Scherer to be my editor, and Glenn and I have been working together ever since.

When the pope died on April 21, 2025, at the Vatican the day after Easter, Glenn and I spoke soon after. Given the many stories I’ve written on Francis and the intersection between faith and climate action over the years, Glenn urged me to put together a reflection on Francis’ environmental legacy. I agreed, leaning heavily on the pope’s own words and exhortations among three pioneering documents since 2015.

Except: This singular leadership will surely be a lasting part of his legacy, as his words continue spreading like soft ripples across the Earth he loved. “There is a mystical meaning to be found in a leaf, in a mountain trail, in a dewdrop, in a poor person’s face,” Francis wrote. “The world sings of an infinite Love: how can we fail to care for it?”