Why do I only see beauty after it's already gone?

I once had a warm coat. In summer it just sat there, hot and useless. I sold it to a man down the road. Winter came. I stood in the cold, watching him wear it, and said, 'What a beautiful coat that was.' He asked, 'Was it beautiful when you owned it?' I said, 'It was hot then. Now it is beautiful.' You do this with places, seasons, whole years. The photograph gets the beauty. The person standing there got the heat, the tiredness, the bus that was late. This is not a flaw in your eyes. It is what distance does to attention — it clears away everything except the pretty part. So the question isn't why you don't feel enough in the moment. It's how to notice sooner, while the coat is still on your back and still hot. That's a skill, not a mood. We can build it.