They’re the same: people and places. You eventually become acclimated. You become so familiar that the beauty turns to comfort, and comfort to tedium—until the novelty is used up. Then you yearn for something else. Heat instead of the cold, rain in place of desert. But the landscape is imprinted upon you; you start to notice something’s wrong without being sure what it is. You begin to miss the silent silhouette of the mountains. You begin to miss home.
- JBWM (aesthetic-value)