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The activist's eyes scan across vast expanses of open meadows, searching for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the open area. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The poachers are here.

Trapped

In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they head to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow cross through China.

The area of meadow where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was extending over half the length of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and invited the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police realized that catching poachers also led to tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He recalls wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not protected zones to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He studies satellite imagery to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked 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 the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.

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

We were told that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his