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The activist's vision darts over miles of open meadows, hunting for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a place of cover in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The poachers are here.

Caught

Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.

This particular field where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to escape, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Tracking the Trappers

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, no-one cared," he says.

So he gathered a team who did care and formed a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers 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 a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.

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

"I made the choice back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

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

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He maps those 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.

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

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed 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 originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

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

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

This is a glimpse 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 vintage jewellery to dentures.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

But today there would be no sales because the police had arrived. 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