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The conservationist's vision darts across miles of open meadows, hunting for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He utters a muted voice as we try to find a place of cover in the fields. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.

Trapped

Across the heavens, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to warmer places to nest and feed.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow intersect in China.

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

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he says.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and invited the officials of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that implementation remains inconsistent.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He recalls exploring the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I chose this direction," he says.

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

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

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You can't do it part-time."

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 satellite imagery to find the routes 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 capture scores of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species command a high price," 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 believes the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase 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 caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

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

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple 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. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his