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Silva Gu's gaze sweeps over miles of open meadows, looking for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He utters less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the fields. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, we hear only the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, consuming bugs and berries. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

There are over 1500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the city skies 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 barely see them.

A net we almost encountered was strung across half the length of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has forgone many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. 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, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

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

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not conservation areas to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

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

This has not made for an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," 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 – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the slowing economy.

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' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"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 wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

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

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But today there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his