The following essay, written by Carrie Countryman, was presented the Hawkins Award (Expository Essay -  Second Place), at Clark College, in May, 2003: The War of the Dragons      Dragonflies are brilliantly lethal creatures. They had seemed so serene to me, skimming along across the pond and sailing though my yard. As a little girl, I looked forward to their summer arrival, seeing them through my innocent eyes as graceful performers whose spirited nature made them perfect friends. I hadn't learned the real motive behind the games they play. I had no patience to sit and watch one perching on a blade of grass as they often like to, and when one would land, I moved on to a more entertaining bug. The battles that were planned as those dragons sat silently on their grass blades were entirely unknown to me.      I had amazing fun chasing the little creatures around the yard. The iridescent rainbow shimmer of dragonflies' wings was exciting; no two sets were ever alike. The sparks of blue, green, purple, and gold caused by the play of sunlight on their wings created endless individual patterns of colors. I learned to recognize a half dozen regular visitors to my home by their distinct colors and sizes, and I knew they had arrived when I heard the enchanting "snappasnappasnappa" sounds the dragonfly wings created.      Summer after summer, I spent my days with my dragon friends. But too soon, as I grew older, I became too old to dance and play, and those carefree summer days began to fade from memory. I was now preoccupied with teenage worries and with boys.      One sunny afternoon, in a rare moment of calm, I contentedly flopped myself down onto a grassy embankment in my yard and relaxed there for a while, enjoying the soft smell and sweet touches of the lush green grass that surrounded me. Gradually, I became aware of the old familiar "snappasnappasnappa" sound of my dragon friends' wings. Opening my eyes and rolling over onto my belly, I strained my eyes to see beyond, through the dense grass. There they were, almost within arm's reach...      Quietly, I spied on the trio of mighty dragons. They were perched together on tufts of grass, each facing to a different direction. Abruptly and silently, the biggest of the three swung upward off his post, stealing a small fly right out of the air with his massive jaws.      The gnats and flies were buzzing along happily through this miniature forest, completely unaware. If they came within sight of the lurking predators, their lives would be chopped short by a single dragon chomp.  Over the next few minutes I watched the three dragonflies repeat this scene again and again.      The perfect image of my beautiful childhood friends disintegrated before my eyes. A battle was raging, and the number of casualties was mounting. I crept forward, completely absorbed by what I saw. Then I came to an awful realization--the "snappasnappasnappa" wasn't coming from beautiful rainbow wings--it came at the moment the dragon first crushed his victim; it was the noise of his munching jaws.      The enchanting dragonfly noises that had called me to my friends all those years ago had actually been the little warriors feasting. Their beautiful choreography was created to chase down their prey. The brilliant appearance of these beautiful creatures clashes terribly with the reality of what they are.      Today, I am still enthralled by rainbow flashes of color, and I still seek out beautiful experiences. However, I do keep in mind that things may not always be as they seem, and I try to look beyond the obvious. If a person is quiet enough, sits still enough, and has enough patience, they will see the miniature war raging all around us. ©  Carrie Countryman