Spot Poem

I walk down the black path going to my spot. I see a squirrel run away from me and scurries up a tree.I cut through the dead grass to get to the steep side of the creek so i can jump to my spot. I jump down from the dead grass landing onto the wet sand. My hands are now sandy and there are hand prints in the sand. I walk over to the spot that i always sit at. The tide is a bit high this time so i sit up the bank. I look into the water and its quite clear. I see a leaf floating down the stream and a minnow follow the leaf. I want to go catch the minnow but its 30 degrees and i would freeze to death. I can still hear the cars on the road so that distracts me from the birds talking to each other. I look at the time and its 3:55 so I pop up and run back to campus making prints in the sand.