It is, on the contrary, a slender, weakly creature; its colour very pale, indeed almost white, as is natural in view of its nocturnal habits.

In handling it one is afraid of crushing it between the fingers.

It lives an aerial existence; on shrubs and bushes of all kinds, on tall herbage and grasses, and rarely descends to the earth.

Its song, the pleasant voice of the calm, hot evenings from July to October, commences at sunset and continues for the greater part of the night.
This song is familiar to all Provencals; for the least patch of thicket or tuft of grasses has its group of instrumentalists.

It resounds even in the granaries, into which the insect strays, attracted thither by the fodder.