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Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of open meadows, looking for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He utters less than a whisper as we try to find a concealed position in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to southern locales to breed and eat.

The nation hosts over 1500 bird species, representing roughly 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major flyways they follow converge in China.

This particular field being monitored, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so delicate you can barely see them.

A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to escape, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, there was little interest," he says.

So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police realized that catching poachers also led to identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he found 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 empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I chose this direction," he says.

It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported 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 willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.

He studies aerial photos to find the paths 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 netting setups which can catch 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 own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the Qing dynasty. 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 older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of caging birds," 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."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

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

This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

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

Information suggested 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 group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple 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 claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his