It was foggy. I wasn’t sure the sun had risen yet, but I could see enough for my morning walk on Redmond’s sidewalks. I was surprised when I turned a corner and saw a man on the other side of the street, shrugging his way into a large backpack.

“Good morning!” I said. He turned, faced me, raised his eyes, and returned the wish. I responded, “With this fog, I keep thinking I’ll see Sherlock Holmes.”

You know the health benefits of walking.

JFK advocated 50-mile hikes. Granola-fueled hiking Birkenstockers admonished us to “take only pictures, leave only footprints.” Leroy Satchel Paige, legendary baseball pitcher (1906-1982) said, “Jangle gently as you move. It keeps the juices flowing.”

The city of Redmond has been working to make our town an easier place to walk. It doesn’t take much — sidewalks and marked crosswalks —and the continuing progress is obvious. We shall remember to thank our councilors.

“But aren’t you afraid walking alone?” I am asked. Never. But people are plainly afraid of me. They might cross to the other side, or pretend they are talking on their phone. It’s absurd. I want to explain to them that the whole “stranger danger” thing, which has expanded into our culture like Green Slime in a B-movie, is a bad idea — unsubstantiated by any data. Furthermore, in an ironic twist, the parents who impressed their children with with this misinformation absorbed it themselves.

The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children “believes it is time for everyone to retire use of the “stranger-danger” message.” Most child abductions are by someone known to the kid. And if a kid is lost or needs some help, and has been trained that strangers are scary, mean, and evil, how do they ask for help?

If someone was accosted on a Redmond sidewalk and harmed, wouldn’t we know about that? In 43 years here, I can’t recall a single newspaper item or anecdotal tale.

I want to explain to the frightened walkers who avoid me, and to the wannabe walkers who hunker fearfully in their habitat, that if — heaven forfend — they encountered an adversity on the sidewalk, I would be the first to help them!

I was seven years old when my family of origin moved from a large Wisconsin city to a small town in the West. They were amazed that strangers on the street greeted them and smiled! So they did the same!

That’s where I learned to look at strangers, smile, and say a few words. I don’t really know if they feel any better having heard me, but the high percentage of pleasant responses suggests they do. Try it.

And the homeless man with the backpack that foggy morning? “Good morning to you,” was his response.

I continued walking, disappearing into the mist, and I heard, “And watch out for Moriarty!” I smiled, and a good morning just got better.