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The activist's vision darts over vast expanses of tall grassland, searching for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a muted voice as the team seeks a concealed position in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, we hear only our own breath.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

Across the heavens, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to warmer places to nest and feed.

China is home to over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major paths they follow intersect in China.

This particular field where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so delicate you can barely see them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a tiny bird was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has forgone many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, no-one cared," he remarks.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not sanctuaries to conserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no sales because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his