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Silva Gu's gaze sweeps across vast expanses of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a muted voice as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Across the heavens, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to warmer places to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so delicate you can hardly spot them.

The trap we stumbled upon was extending over a large section of the field and supported with wooden sticks. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he says.

So he gathered a team who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police realized that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

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

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

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

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

It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He examines satellite imagery to find the paths created by the poachers. He charts these 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 capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," 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 argues 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 people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

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

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The area alongside the water extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

Information suggested that wild songbirds 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 traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, 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 taking names. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his