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The activist's gaze sweeps over miles of open meadows, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He utters less than a whisper as the team seeks a concealed position in the grasslands. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they head to southern locales to nest and feed.

There are 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow intersect in China.

This particular field in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

He recalls wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not protected zones to preserve.

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

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

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are prepared for 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 give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

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

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the paths 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.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh 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 originates from the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites 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 grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

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

This is a glimpse 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 sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

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 under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had gathered 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 transactions because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his