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The activist's eyes scan across miles of dense fields, searching for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He utters less than a whisper as the team seeks a concealed position in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter.

There are over 1500 bird species, which is about 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

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

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.

The one we nearly walked into was extending over half the length of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying 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 "bio-indicator" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Tracking the Trappers

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has given up on many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

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

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.

It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

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

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

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

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He examines aerial photos to find the routes created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once people's attitudes are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

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

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

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