Tiny Leaves’ new track Anthropocene, takes its name from the proposed geological epoch that marks significant human impact on Earth. It serves as a lament for the accelerating loss of biodiversity and the growing list of endangered species. Drawing on a haunting bird song tape loop recorded at Rectory Wood during the Mynd residency, Pike reflects on how human activities have disrupted the natural rhythms of the world.
The piece begins softly, with tender piano, saxophone, and cello, gradually building to a distorted and dramatic crescendo, capturing the increasing tension between human behaviour and ecological balance. Yet, by the end, the loop unravels back into a fuller birdsong, serving as a declaration of hope amid despair.
Oftentimes, beauty and destruction go hand-in-hand. When I am out in the wild enjoying a magnificent view of nature, I am often reminded of the immense power of Creation and the disaster it can bring about in a moment’s notice. Perhaps this is because every day I wake up to a constant reminder of this harsh reality. Just across from my home, I can see a mountain range full of dead trees, the effects of a massive wildfire that torched half of the Columbia River Gorge in 2017. Even now, smoke from a nearby wildfire creeps low from a distant valley.
While wildfires are typically a natural phenomenon, even a healthy one for the life of a forest, the frequency of these fires is not. And that’s because of humankind’s involvement. You see, both wildfires mentioned above were human-caused. And this is unfortunately the case for far too many disasters that are plaguing our planet at an alarming rate.
The word “Anthropocene” is used by many in the scientific community to name the new geological epoch (or era) that we have entered into. The main theme of this new era is that human activity has become the dominant influence on nature. The relationship between our planet and the peoples that inhabit it has often been a balance, but as the current climate crisis has been showing us, it seems the scales have been tipping. When we look to the great landscapes of our planet, we can watch this drama unfold.
Each landscape tells the same story in a different way. Oceans are warming and rising. Dammed rivers affect the flora and fauna of a region. Glaciers are melting and receding like never before. But for this film, I wanted to focus on the great forests of the Pacific Northwest and the destruction—both natural and human-caused—that they have endured. And to show scenes where the balance has been tipped in various ways.
The first half of the film focuses on the tame, peaceful calm of the forest. This is an invitation to bathe in the beauty of a woodland realm: cloud forests filled with birdsong; golden shafts of light beaming through an evergreen canopy as the morning sun rises; a thick marine fog layer rolling over firs on the Oregon Coast. But as the film progresses, things start to shift.
Burnt trees stand on top of a jagged cliff. A vast cloud forest is interrupted by clear cuts of deforestation. And with Mount St Helens in the background, we are reminded of one of the biggest natural disasters in recent history: the 1980 eruption. As the music builds and intensifies, we see the effects of that eruption that still exist today: a massive floating log jam in a lake by the volcano, all dead trees leftover from the blast.
But near the end, we are shown a glimpse of hope and new life. After the log jam scenes, we fly over the blast zone, which shows both dead and burnt trees, along with new growth rising up out of the destruction. And finally, in the end, we rise above the fog and towards the light, as the sound of birdsong begins to fill the air once more. No matter how dark or bleak our ecological situation becomes, there is always hope. There is new life after death. And beauty will rise from the ashes.
“There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
May you all find the Light in the days ahead, and may we all keep our eyes fixed on the High Beauty that is forever beyond the reach of darkness.
Joel Pike records and performs under the stage name Tiny Leaves. Over a series of records, he has crafted a realm where gentle piano motifs brush up against shimmering guitars and strings rise before falling away amongst a backdrop of field recordings.