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Silva Gu's gaze sweeps over miles of open meadows, hunting for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in a muted voice as we try to find a spot to hide in the fields. In the distance, 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, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.

There are 1500-plus bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

The area of meadow in question, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to escape, 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 "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, 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 established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. 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.

"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that the response is not uniform.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

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

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are willing to take on 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 give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising 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 developed new ways to track the poachers.

He examines aerial photos to find the routes worn away 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 netting setups which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp 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 growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice 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 set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

Another man stands outside a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan 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 recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his