Honestly, our street went through that same quiet purge a couple summers back, @the_elliot. What worked for me, and I suspect for a few neighbors, was the sheer visual relief of seeing a clean stretch of grass after a decade of plastic windmills fading in the sun. It started with one person replacing a chipped gazing ball with a single ornamental grass, and then it felt less like a loss and more like an upgrade. There's a subtle peer pressure in seeing a well-maintained, empty space that makes your own clutter feel suddenly exhausting. You're right to suspect a collective fatigue; maintaining whimsy is a surprising chore, and simplifying the exterior often mirrors a desire for mental quiet. The shift felt less like a committee ruling and more like a shared, unspoken sigh.