On the Trail Illegal Hunters Illegally Trapping China's Endangered Songbirds.
The activist's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of tall grassland, looking for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.
He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a concealed position in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.
And then, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Caught
Overhead, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.
They have benefited from the extended daylight in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to southern locales to find food and shelter.
There are more than 1,500 bird species, which is about 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major paths they follow converge in China.
The patch of grassland being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so delicate you can barely see them.
The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.
Pursuing the Poachers
This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.
"Initially, there was little interest," he states.
So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.
"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.
Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.
He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."
Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as empty places to build, not sanctuaries to preserve.
This shift shocked him. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.
"I decided 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 fought back.
"He gathered several of his accomplices 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 demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.
"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. 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 track the poachers.
He examines satellite imagery to find the trails 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 lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.
"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 environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the penalties to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.
This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.
"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."
Busted
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.
Another man is positioned near 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 informal vendors have created their own market.
The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.
We were told that protected birds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.
Loud music played 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 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 taking names. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his