I grew up in a sleepy little village where nothing much ever happened. You didn't dare blink, in case something did happen and you missed it.
The village is much the same now except that of the three local stores two are now closed. The post office closed, as is depressingly common in villages, and there's now a post office counter at the nearby grocery store. The local bakery closed down because the owners retired and for some reason their children didn't want to carry on a business that involved getting up at 3am to bake the bread in the hope of selling it during the day.
On a nearby road there were lots of very small houses slowly falling apart as they were owned by elderly people who couldn't afford to maintain them or their gardens. I remember one such house owned by an older woman who had six-foot weeds growing across most of her front yard. She couldn't understand why none of the local teenagers would cut them back for her - she'd even offered to pay for the help. The trouble was she had no idea of the amount of work involved or a fair price for the work. I remember hearing her say "I'd give them 50p for their efforts, it's not as if I want it for free". At the time 50p was about $0.80 and even though this was in the late 1980s you'd still struggle to find a teenager interested in doing what was probably going to several hours of quite hard work for less than a dollar. Anyway, as the older folks died or moved into nursing homes their old shacks were bought up and demolished, with nice new houses being built in their place. Some of those houses had a lot of land too.