Following Illegal Hunters Illegally Trapping the Nation's Rare Wild Birds.
The conservationist's gaze sweeps across miles of tall grassland, looking for signs of life in the early morning gloom.
He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a spot to hide in the fields. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.
And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Caught
In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.
They have benefited from the long summer days in northern regions, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they head to warmer places to find food and shelter.
China is home to 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major paths they follow intersect in China.
The patch of grassland in question, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis 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 "mist nets", so fine you can barely see them.
The trap we stumbled upon was extending over half the length of the field and held up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.
It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.
Tracking the Trappers
Silva, who is in his 30s, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"In the early days, there was little interest," he states.
So he recruited volunteers who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.
"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.
This fascination with birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.
He recalls wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."
Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as land for construction, not sanctuaries to preserve.
This shift shocked him. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.
"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I chose this direction," 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 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 brought to justice.
He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky 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 donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.
So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.
He analyzes satellite imagery to find the paths worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds at night.
"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."
While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom 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.
"These individuals 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 little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."
Disrupted
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.
A separate individual is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.
This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.
The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.
We were told that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.
Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.
But today there would be no sales 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