Another perspective:

Why the hurry. Are they predator or prey?

I amble and ponder. No rush.

The waves of scurriers flow around me.

Anxious, harried little faces.

Eyes instinctively, momentarily hostile

at my lack of urgency.

They flow by, perturbed just a little.

My attentions wane. Faces fade away

Back to my petty private distractions I go.

Ambling. Never rushing. Amusing myself best i can.