Drawing these threads together, Murakami’s sentence portrays life as an ongoing journey through variable skies rather than a problem to solve once and for all. The weather will turn, then turn again; there is no final, permanent blue. However, the cyclical nature of weather also implies renewal, reminding us that no storm is all there is. By continuing to walk—accepting drizzle, wind, and occasional sunlight—we position ourselves to encounter those quietly opening skies, discovering that endurance itself becomes a kind of understated, everyday hope. [...]
