On the Trail Illegal Hunters Who Illegally Snare China's Protected Wild Birds.
The activist's gaze sweeps across vast expanses of dense fields, searching for suspicious activity in the early morning gloom.
He utters a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, we hear only our own breath.
And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Snared
In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.
They have taken advantage of the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they head to warmer places to find food and shelter.
China is home to over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow cross through China.
The patch of grassland being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.
It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.
The one we nearly walked into was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.
Hunting the Hunters
This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.
"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he states.
So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion have shown results. The police found that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.
"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting 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 roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered 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 rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not sanctuaries to conserve.
The transformation was alarming. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.
"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I followed this course," he says.
It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.
"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.
He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.
"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. 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 adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.
He studies aerial photos to find the routes created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds during darkness.
"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."
While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the penalties to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.
It's a tradition that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.
"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."
Apprehended
On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.
Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells 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 area 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.
Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.
Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.
But today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his