If you haven’t been outside lately, there is something you should know. In Toronto, we are now saying hello to strangers. It’s a feature of pandemic life that will surprise anyone who has ever moved here from a smaller place and made the mistake of trying to start a conversation on the subway.

I first noticed it on an evening walk through the hushed streets in my east-end neighbourhood, a nightly ritual I call “sanity hour.” I saw a man leaning over the railing on his front porch, smoking and staring into the distance. I had passed him dozens of times before on my commute, but we had never made eye contact, let alone spoken. This time, our eyes met. He offered a small nod. I smiled. Then he smiled. So I went for it: I said hello. And he said hello back.

It was exhilarating, like a jolt to the heart. I’d been walking around in a cloud of private anxiety, but this small interaction, this sudden impulse to connect with another human, brought me back to the present.

This happened last week, as we were settling into the reality of how fast and dramatically the world has changed, and how long we may be separated from the people and things that bring joy and meaning to our lives. In the weeks since public health officials and politicians began urging Canadians to stay home to slow the spread of COVID-19, my time outside has been limited to grocery shopping and walks.

Since then, I have exchanged warm hellos (from a distance) with a family walking their dog, a dad watching his children ride bicycles down an empty street, a couple carrying bags of groceries. The most pleasant greeting came from a man who, from afar, I had judged to be grumpy, but upon closer inspection (though not too close) appeared merely to be deep in thought.

“What a beautiful night,” he offered.

I even got a smile from a teenage boy, which hadn’t happened since I turned 30 and became invisible to teenage boys. It was a sunny afternoon. He was walking a dog. I was with my three-year-old, who was pointing at two cats lounging on a chair outside a house on our street, shouting, “The cats are cuddling!” The boy looped respectfully around us, and smiled in a gesture that seemed to acknowledge my daughter’s delight.

On Canada’s East Coast, where I was raised, saying hello to strangers is a social norm, even in cities. We greet each other, comment on the sun breaking through the fog, the sprouting tulips, the storm on the horizon. It’s not unusual for hellos to lead to dinner invitations, strange adventures or friendships.

Since moving to Toronto a decade ago, I’ve grown accustomed to the hustle of urban life, to passing hundreds of people every day without greeting them. I’ve learned to appreciate the freedom that comes with anonymity, but I also miss the warmth and openness, now more than ever.

So I wondered if the hello thing was just me, if old habits were emerging as I mourned the loss of normal life. Maybe I was giving off a friendly vibe, or a desperate one.

“Is saying hello to strangers (from a distance) a new thing across Toronto, or just in my neighbourhood?” I asked on Twitter.

Hundreds of people replied. It was happening in Scarborough and Etobicoke, downtown and midtown. Strangers were saying hello across Canada, in Vancouver, Ottawa, Thunder Bay and Calgary.

“This happened to me yesterday,” one Toronto woman replied. “A lady smiled and said hello and I almost cried. I needed that.”

“IT’S SO LOVELY,” wrote Tom Power, host of CBC Radio’s “q” and a native of St. John’s, N.L. “People are saying hi! Waving! Asking how you’re doing.”

The hellos are an act of solidarity, an acknowledgment that we’re all in this together, an antidote to loneliness, an apology for veering two metres away.

“I hope it continues when these crazy times are over,” wrote Holly Lake, a University of Ottawa law student.

Debbie Chachra, an engineering professor from Toronto who lives in Boston, shared this thoughtful analysis: “I interpret my new urge to say hello to strangers as verbally compensating for my avoidant (i.e. hostile) body language, in order to bring the interaction back to the baseline level of civic neutrality that I’m comfortable with.”

It’s happening in New York, too, even as the city becomes the global pandemic’s new epicentre.

New Yorker Kio Stark, author of “When Strangers Meet: How People You Don’t Know Can Transform You,” says passing moments of connection between strangers contribute to filling the human need for intimacy.

Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading...

“In our new isolated circumstances, we still need that easy, brief connection that makes us feel recognized,” even more than in normal times, Stark said. “Not only are we cut off from our friends and families, we’re cut off from all these small interactions that help us feel like we belong … Now, these moments where we have the chance to smile and wave at another person are precious, and the meaning is deeper.”

Even while celebrating this new friendliness, we cannot forget that the pandemic has brought an increase in racism, in particular against Asians, Stark said. “I don’t want to lose sight of the other end of the spectrum because it’s still there, and we still have to stand up and fight it.”

While writing her book, Stark explored regional variations in how strangers interact, and “got a LOT of comments” about Toronto; namely, that “nobody talks to anybody they don’t know.”

Perhaps the pandemic will change that. When we emerge from isolation, I won’t be surprised if we all want to have a good chat with a stranger on the subway.