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The activist's vision darts over vast expanses of dense fields, looking for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a spot to hide in the grasslands. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, we hear only the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, the sound of footsteps emerges. The poachers are here.

Caught

Across the heavens, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they head to more temperate climates to breed and eat.

China is home to 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the city skies offer few options to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. At its center, a small finch was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

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

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He remembers exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not protected zones to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

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

This has not made for an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible 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 few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies satellite imagery to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the penalties to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. 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 some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted 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 people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

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

Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

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

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were performing a traditional 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 today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his