Why we talk about the weather

This morning I awoke to mist. A pale sun shone from behind the swirling grey so I set off straight after breakfast, before the gloom could lift and spoil the effect.

As I set off across the fields I met other walkers, all wrapped up like me in boots and coats and hats, and all but one entirely cheerful.

I knew none of them, but we greeted each other with enthusiasm. 'I think it's going to lift!' 'I saw the sun an hour ago.' 'It's good to be out in it. I'm gardening later so I hope the sun comes out.' Only one said as we slipped towards each other in ankle-deep mud, 'It's disgusting, isn't it?'

I think she was referring to the mud, but if she was, she was bending the English rule: when you meet a stranger, talk about the weather. You don't even need to say you're talking about the weather. 'Gorgeous, isn't it?' can only mean the weather to an English person, no matter how stunning the view.

I've been reading social anthropologist Kate Fox's 'Watching the English': there's a whole chapter on weather talk, and it's revelatory. We talk about the weather because we're so awkward about greetings. We comment to a passer-by on the fog, or the ice, or the sun not because these weather features are fascinating, but because it's a safe way to say, 'I'm friendly, I'm happy to chat a little bit if you are.'

We don't want to chat long - that would be weird. It's fine to exchange just one sentence each and then pass on. But don't we feel better for that short exchange?

I walk most days and pretty much everyone I pass will either comment on the weather, or say 'Morning.' You don't often say 'Hello,' unless you know someone. If you don't want to talk at all (maybe you're deep in thought, or something awful's just happened) it's ok to walk past in silence - but only if you look down and don't meet the other person's eye. And it's not really ok even then.

The weirdest and most unsettling behaviour is when someone walks past you, looks at you, and says nothing. That makes me feel genuinely uncomfortable because that person either doesn't know the rules, or does know them and is consciously breaking them - and in either case, their behaviour is odd, unpredictable and unfriendly.

That's the thing (and you people from towns who laugh at us country people greeting strangers in the middle of nowhere, just listen). Greeting someone means you're letting them know you don't mean them harm. Whether you're a woman walking alone or a group of burly blokes, when you meet on a path in the woods, commenting on the fog helps everyone relax.