Flatid hoppers are sometimes mistaken for moths. Their often oversized wings envelop a body of modest proportions. Most species are green or brown, merging with the cover of their preferred vegetation save the piercing red of their eyes. En masse, some appear to be thorny protrusions on rigid stems. This individual, though, was like a phantom in the approaching dusk. As I hurried down the trail in fear of the dark and damp, it fluttered by like a tiny veil on a flightpath that was both hesitant and harrowing. All white and blindingly featureless through the sweat-stained eyepiece, it sat on a twig for a moment of memory before its fragile tent of chitin brought it afloat once more, crashing through the thick air, fading into black and dreams of ghostly green.