Continuing the series where we ask readers for their Sites of Special Sentimental Interest, Martin Hesp has been to one of the flattest, squelchiest parts of the region to meet a man who loves feathered creatures great and small

NOWHERE in the region is so dominated by the sky. That might sound like an odd thing to say, but when you're somewhere as flat as the Somerset Levels, it's the great skyscapes that shout loudest as they hang huge and billowing above the thin horizontal strip of landscape.

And it's the creatures that live in those skies that take us to this week's Site of Special Sentimental Interest. Tony Whitehead is a public affairs officer for the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds – and he is passionate about the organisation's reserves, which stretch west from the shadow of Glastonbury Tor, for two reasons.

One is because Tony was heavily involved in setting up the West Sedgemoor reserves in the mid-1990s, so he swings his binoculars about their vast reed-beds with something of a proprietary eye.

The other reason is reserves, like the one at Ham Wall, are the ornithological equivalent of Heathrow Airport. They abound with birds. They chirrup and quack and boom with birds. They are a venue for not just thousands, but millions of birds.

At this time of year the reserves are among the only places anywhere in Europe where the sky can actually go dark because of wings. Millions and millions of wings, all flapping in unison in vast feathered arcs and vortexes.

Throughout midwinter, starlings from all over the northern Continent escape the icy weather by flying south west – and the Somerset Levels are their winter holiday destination of choice. The evening starling roosts have become world famous – it's even claimed that they represent one of the biggest daily migrations on the planet.

"The majority are probably birds from abroad – from the very far north," says Tony, as we stroll out along the old railway line that gives the Ham Wall Reserve its name, and which divides the huge reed-beds in two. As such it's slightly elevated length makes an excellent viewing platform for the wide open wet areas on either side.

"They're looking for places that are not frozen where they can feed – so they are feeding out around the Somerset Levels and in the surrounding hills – but at night time they need somewhere safe to go," Tony explained.

"They need to flock together in a group somewhere safe and the reed-beds here provide ideal safety for them.

"So they flock here, not just in their thousands, not in their tens of thousands, but in their millions. And it is such a spectacle – in fact it is one of the great natural spectacles."

It's also one of the great natural mysteries. No-one knows how or why these vast hosts of birds will choose one reed-bed above another – but choose they do, and no-one can predict exactly where they'll pitch for the night.

Which is why we were about a mile out of luck the night the WMN went to witness the phenomena – a local expert had predicted a reed-bed slightly to the east would be the main venue, but the vast flocks swooped right over us and settled just to our west.

Never mind, we did get to witness flock after chirruping flock of excited starlings pass by, after we'd had a great day out exploring the various reed-bed reserves with Tony.

"This is my SSSI because I've seen it grow and grow from fields into this wonderful reed bed reserve we have here now," Tony told me as we strolled around this curiously beautiful area.

"We're at a place called the Avalon Marshes, which are a series of nature reserves – all reed-beds, all wetland reserves – aimed at helping a whole range of wetland birds and wildlife.

"I first came to Ham Wall in 1995 when I first moved down here to the Westcountry – and at that time this was still peat workings and fields," adds Tony, recalling the days when the rich soil hereabouts was known by horticulturalists as Black Gold.

"It was slowly coming into RSPB ownership. The peat workings were leaving holes behind them – holes that filled up with water – which we were then going and planting up with reeds to create the reed-beds you see now. That was 1995 and here we are, 13 years later, and we've got hundreds and hundreds of acres of reed-bed."

So why did the RSPB and other agencies go to all the trouble and expense of getting their hands on a series of wide and muddy holes in the ground?

"The really important thing about reed-beds for us is that there are a few critical species," says Tony. "And top of the list is the bittern – a small brown heron-like bird, extremely rare.

"When we first took this land over in 1995 there were just a handful of pairs breeding in the whole UK, and it was this that was the driving force behind us buying this reserve. We developed the reserve, kept our fingers crossed, and worked and worked, and this year we've been lucky enough to have the bitterns breed here for the first time.

"But, of course, it's not just the bitterns. It's all the other birds – the marsh harriers, the bearded tits and even the reed warblers and sedge warblers – that weren't here before we'd taken over the land and started managing it as we are now.

"For some of the birds it's a safety zone but also it offers the things birds need, protection and shelter, so birds such as the reed warbler can actually make their nests in the stands of reeds. But for birds like the bittern it offers food – it's full of the fish, the eels, and things like that, that bitterns eat.

"So it's a combination of providing shelter and providing food that makes this such an attractive place for breeding birds – and it's not just the birds.

"Of course we are interested in the birds, but increasingly we are interested in all types of wildlife – and the ditches here support an incredibly unique flora and fauna," continues Tony, with justifiable pride.

"There are some rare beetles – the lesser silver water beetle is very rare in the UK and found in the ditches here. Some of the plant life that grows here as well is incredibly rare. So it's not just about the birds – it is about the whole wide diversity of life we've got here."

As for his own sense of achievement regarding the place, Tony says: "It's absolutely fantastic to see that the children we worked with back in 1996-97 are now adults themselves – but they were some of the people who helped us grow the reeds. Some of the children, like the ones from Walton School (located nearby) actually helped us design the layout of the reserve behind us.

"Those kids must be adults now, and it's great that they can come back here and see this as a mature reserve – and hopefully the work will have impressed upon them some of the values of the natural world."

One man already fully impressed by the natural world of the Levels is WMN photographer Richard Austin, who visits the reserves regularly with his cameras.

"The variety of wildlife if you are a photographer – or wildlife fanatic like me – is amazing," said Richard who'd joined us the day we explored the reserves. "From the millions of starlings, to otters, egrets, bittern, mute swans and countless small birds – it is a wildlife haven. And because it's so open, it offers a good opportunity for photographers, although most of the time you do need a large telephoto lens for real impact images."

But country lovers don't need large lenses to enjoy the loveliness of the Avalon Marshes, nor do they need to be particularly learned when it comes to birds. A stout pair of boots will see you safely to one of the bird hides that have been erected at various vantage points, and some warm clothes, and maybe a Thermos of soup, will keep you snug as you sit and stare at some of the best skyscapes in Britain.

If you are lucky, like we were, some feathered wonder might come fluttering out of the heavens (in our case a majestic marsh harrier) and you will see why this is a Site of Special Scientific Interest as well as being one of the WMN's own patent sentimental SSSIs.