我曾对住在森林公园的一对夫妻羡慕不已，因为公园里有大片的杉树、竹林，有幽静的林间小道，有鸟语和花香。然而，当这对夫妇知道有人羡慕他们的住所时，却神情诧异。他们认为这儿没有多少值得观光和留恋的景致，远不如城市丰富有趣。

当时，我的感觉是，熟悉的地方没有风景。这对夫妇对这儿太熟悉了，花草树木，清风明月，在他们漫长的日子里，已不再有风景的含义，而是成为习以为常的东西。

参考译文

I used to envy a married couple who lived in a forest park, where groves of fir trees and bamboos flourished, with quiet and secluded cobble stone paths meandering through the woods, birds chirping beautifully and flowers permeating fragrance. Yet when they realized that they had unwittingly become an object of admiration owing to the unique location of their house, they were truly perplexed. In their eyes, there was little in the forest which deserved to be seen or made such a fuss about when compared to the fun and abundant life a metropolis can provide!

That experience told me that when one becomes too familiar with something, one stops enjoying it. The couple had long been used to everything within their sight-the trees and the flowers, breezes and the moon-that those were no longer regarded as natural wonders but simply a constituent part of their unvarying life.