“There’s something genuinely satisfying about wishing someone a good morning and having them wish you one in return. A small exchange, perhaps, but it makes the world feel a little friendlier,” writes PAUL DORIN.

I’ve noticed something interesting about human behaviour, and I’m beginning to think there’s an unwritten law governing it. 

When we head out for an early morning walk, we suddenly become unofficial ambassadors of good manners.

I try to greet just about everyone I pass: other walkers, joggers, people being dragged along by their dogs, people bringing in their bins, workers starting their day and even the occasional person who looks as though they’re still easing themselves into the morning.

“Good morning!”

The funny thing is, I feel compelled to do it. It’s not as though I’ve been appointed to ensure the entire neighbourhood starts the day on friendly terms. 

But there’s something genuinely satisfying about wishing someone a good morning and having them wish you one in return. A small exchange, perhaps, but it makes the world feel a little friendlier.

Of course, not everyone is keen to participate in this early morning ritual. There’s a special category of walker I’ve come to recognise, and I’ll admit I’ve been one myself. I call them the Shy Avoiders.

These are the people who spot you coming from 50 metres away and immediately become fascinated by something on the ground. Their eyes become glued to their shoes, the footpath suddenly demands their undivided attention, or they stare straight ahead with the determination of someone on a secret mission.

Sometimes, I find myself mirroring their behaviour. Suddenly, I’m studying the pavement as though I’ve misplaced something important.

Then there are the walkers and runners listening to something through their AirPods. Personally, I walk with my retro, wired earphones plugged in, safely tucked away in my own little podcast bubble, usually listening to something light and funny. It’s a great way to start the day with a laugh.

But don’t let the earphones fool you.

Just because I’m listening to a podcast doesn’t mean you’ll escape my “good morning”, or at least a smile and a nod

I like to think I’m doing my bit for community spirit, even if the person approaching is desperately hoping we’ll both keep walking, staring straight ahead and pretending we haven’t noticed each other.

Yet here’s where things get interesting.

If, instead of going for my early morning walk, I jump in the car and head to the supermarket for some bread and milk, something changes.

Suddenly, I’m no longer the neighbourhood’s goodwill ambassador. I can walk through the aisles without a word being exchanged. Nothing.

Put me on a walking track at seven in the morning and I’ll greet half the population. Put me in aisle three looking for bread, and I’ll suddenly develop the social skills of a man hiding from debt collectors.

I can even walk past someone who happily exchanged a “good morning” with me on the footpath, only to pass them in the supermarket without so much as a nod. It’s as though we’ve both agreed to pretend we’ve never met.

In the afternoon, the whole system collapses

But the mystery doesn’t end there. This peculiar behaviour seems to be restricted to the morning.

Go for an afternoon walk and the whole system collapses. Nobody seems to feel the same obligation to greet one another. There might be the occasional nod, but the enthusiastic chorus of “good mornings” has disappeared. Nobody seems particularly interested in wishing anyone a good afternoon.

Why is that?

Does the morning somehow make us more sociable? Is there an unwritten rule that says once the sun is up, we must acknowledge our fellow walkers, but after midday, all bets are off?

Perhaps a morning greeting is a small way of acknowledging that we’re all in this together. We’ve dragged ourselves out of bed, survived the alarm clock and are doing our best to get the day started.

By the afternoon, perhaps we’ve used up our daily allocation of friendliness.

Whatever the explanation, I’m beginning to suspect that “good morning” comes with its own set of rules. You can greet strangers on a walking track, avoid eye contact in a supermarket and apparently retire from the whole business once lunchtime arrives.

So, I’ll keep saying “good morning” on my walks. I’ll keep smiling and nodding, even if the occasional person seems determined to study their shoes.

After all, it costs nothing to be friendly. Apparently, it sometimes requires the right time of day.

Paul Dorin, one of those early morning eager beavers, is the CityNews cartoonist.

News all day, every day at CityNewsQBN.com.au.