麻豆社

When you stare into a bank of reeds in early May you can see very little, yet hear so much inside, so sound recordist Chris Watson decided to try and capture the changing soundscape within the reeds over 24 hours. But tall phragmites reeds growing out of sodden ground and watery dykes make them impenetrable places by foot, so Chris sets up his microphones around the edge of the reedbed and prepares to listen from dusk until dawn. Reed beds are magical places. The resident wildlife is either very well camouflaged or secretive and yet the sounds are extraordinary - from the booming fog-horn like calls of Bittern, which are very rarely seen but whose calls reverberate across the reed beds, to the pig-like squeals of the water rail (again a bird you are very unlikely to see but will hear). Dusk is accompanied by the screams and clicks of swifts and swallows as the swoop back and forth catching insects on the wing. As the temperature drops, the reed bed becomes a quieter place but just before dawn the silence is broken and the orchestra strikes up once again: Bitterns, reed buntings and chattering reed and sedge warblers as well as the reeling grasshopper warblers are the first to be heard. Then there's the bell-like high pitched calls of Bearded tits, and finally a soloist as a cuckoo calls to attract a mate. Producer Sarah Blunt.