Tracking Illegal Hunters Illegally Trapping the Nation's Rare Songbirds.
The conservationist's eyes scan over vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for signs of life in the inky blackness.
He speaks in less than a whisper as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.
And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Caught
In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.
They have taken advantage of the long summer days in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.
China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow cross through China.
The area of meadow where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among forests of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.
A net we almost encountered was extending over a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to untangle itself, 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 "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.
Hunting the Hunters
The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he says.
So he gathered a team who did care and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.
"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.
This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.
He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."
Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not sanctuaries to conserve.
The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.
"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.
It has not been an simple journey. 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 went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.
He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.
"My life is devoted to this," 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 fundraising covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.
So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.
He examines aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths 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.
"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."
While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.
Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that continues 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 so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.
"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're extremely difficult to change."
Disrupted
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 covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.
The area by the river stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.
Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.
Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby 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 sales because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his