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The conservationist's vision darts over miles of open meadows, looking for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as the team seeks a concealed position in the fields. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

Overhead, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow cross through China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

The trap we stumbled upon was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

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

So he gathered a team who did care and launched a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police discovered that catching poachers also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered 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 empty places to build, not sanctuaries to preserve.

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

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers 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.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He studies aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"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. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

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

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The area alongside the water extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

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

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