Silva Gu's gaze sweeps over miles of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the inky blackness.
He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a place of cover in the fields. Behind us, the vast metropolis 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
Overhead, countless migratory birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.
They have utilized the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.
China is home to over 1500 bird species, representing roughly 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major migration routes they follow converge in China.
The patch of grassland in question, 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 forests of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can hardly spot them.
A net we almost encountered was extending over a large section of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.
It was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its environment.
Tracking the Trappers
Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.
"In the early days, there was little interest," he says.
So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and invited the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.
"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.
Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.
He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he found 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 considered empty places to build, not protected zones to conserve.
The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.
"I decided back then to work in conservation and I followed this course," 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 gathered 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 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 difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.
"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."
He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – 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 routes created 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 during darkness.
"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."
Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.
"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."
Busted
On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.
Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders 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 old trinkets 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 choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.
But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his
