Tracking Poachers Who Illegally Snare China's Endangered Songbirds.
The activist's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, searching for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.
He speaks in a muted voice as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only our own breath.
Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Snared
In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.
They have taken advantage of the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter.
The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow converge in China.
The area of meadow where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so delicate you can almost miss them.
The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.
It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its environment.
Pursuing the Poachers
This activist, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"Initially, no-one cared," he states.
So he gathered a team who were concerned and formed a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and invited the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also led to tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.
"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.
Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.
He remembers roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."
China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not sanctuaries to preserve.
This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.
"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.
This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.
"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.
He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many 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 tackle this challenge, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."
He says donations covers some of the costs – over 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 satellite imagery to find the paths created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups 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 fines to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.
"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."
Busted
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.
Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.
This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors 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 vintage jewellery to dentures.
We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.
Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.
But today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his