For most of us gardening is a solitary practice. Alone in our own little world of plants, the garden can provide respite from a busy world. But there are many ways to get the job done. Community gardens offer space for people who don't have the room at home or who enjoy the social atmosphere gardening together can offer.

Tony Frick is on one knee as he gently drops onion sets into planting holes that are soft, dark and fertile. Over Memorial Day weekend, he started his second planting of the crop.

He's been an institution at Mt. Lebanon's community garden for nearly 40 years. His garden is filled with just about every vegetable known to man --tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, radishes, cabbage, corn, potatoes, spinach, Swiss chard, beans, beets, lettuce, onions, cucumbers, zucchini and yellow squash. He's already harvested some early crops like radishes and lettuce.

Mr. Frick, the elder statesman here, is eager to help new gardeners because for many it's their first attempt.

---

Today we begin a monthly series of stories tracking three gardeners in different community gardens through the season. See videos of the gardens using the links in the left column.

---

"The soil is very important. That's what I tell them," he says. "Get your soil conditioned. Do whatever you can to improve the ground. It makes it much easier."

The garden has rich leaf compost dumped at one corner for anyone to use, but Mr. Frick amends his soil with mushroom manure, too. He's seen gardeners come and go. Some move away, and others don't bond with the hobby.

"It is a lot of work and it's not for everyone."

When gardeners first sign up, they are given plots lower in the garden, If they like the experience, they can move up to the more established plots.

Mr. Frick's family always grew vegetables, and he believes that's one reason he's so successful. He's a confessed tomato junkie, growing heirlooms and hybrids side by side. Two of his favorites have been handed down for generations -- an old Italian plum variety and a large pink Polish tomato that his wife's former hairdresser brought from the Old Country. He's also fond of 'Fourth of July,' 'Bloody Butcher,' 'Better Boy' and one given to him called 'Heritage.'

As he sees it, the fun of community gardening is spending time with other gardeners. "It's just very relaxing to be here [and] to have the neighbors come up and chat a little bit. It's really a very happy and enjoyable experience for all of us," Mr. Frick says.

George Gillotti, who has the space two plots down, leans over and confides: "You know why his garden looks so good? See this stuff," he says, smiling and pointing to the vegetables. "It's plastic. Every week he comes up here and takes the other ones out and puts a taller one in there."

Mr. Frick uses a technique called succession planting. As the early crops succumb to hot summer weather, he substitutes other vegetables throughout the year. A row of patio tomatoes will be harvested and replaced with a fall crop, maybe escarole or endive. One thing is certain: Each space in this garden is always filled with plants that are eventually eaten, given away or stored for the winter.

As he waters in another crop of tiny lettuce seedlings, Mr. Frick explains what this place offers him.

"I think more than anything [it's] the therapeutic benefits, getting away from stress and pressures. It's a way for me to relax."

Jana Thompson has been the garden coordinator for two seasons at the Olde Allegheny Community Garden in Pittsburgh's Mexican War Streets. She has the unenviable task of making sure everyone keeps up their plots. There are written rules but she finds the age-old technique of nagging fellow gardeners to be most effective.

"I think the biggest thing is the sense of community. Your weeds might not bother you, but once they go to seed, they are really going to bother the people next door to you. If you're just here for the salsa, you don't really care what your garden plot looks like."

The garden has been a neighborhood staple since it was resurrected in the early 1980s. The paths are lined with bricks, stones and benches -- all saved from around the neighborhood. It's hard to miss the colorful stenciled fence that surrounds the garden, which spans Sherman Avenue and crosses Arch Street. What makes it different from most community gardens are its many perennial flowers and shrubs. A huge vining clematis in purple and white covers 5 square feet. When the luminescent poppies are not flattened by rain, they are complemented by baptisia.

"That blue and orange together are so sharp," Mrs. Thompson says.

Each bed and every connecting path offer a surprise down at ground level, whether it's an ornate tile or another interesting plant tucked into a corner.

Besides benefiting the community, the garden is common ground for both newcomers and longtime residents, she says.

"The most important part of this isn't so much cleaning up the neighborhood and taking over dead space ... It is one of the few interracial things that we have in the neighborhood that's isn't a highly organized, official event. It's one of my biggest pleasures."

She inherited a plot from a gardener who passed away. Out of respect for the previous owner, no one worked the area for a few years. And even though the two never met, Mrs. Thompson feels they are kindred spirits.

"She was really an uptight gardener like me with a very low tolerance for weeds. I just love to weed," she says. "I do."

The columbine, roses, asparagus and raspberries were already there. Adding a couple rows of garlic has changed the way she looks at the herb.

"Harvesting your own garlic is so much better than store-bought garlic. We can't grow quite enough to get us through the year," Mrs. Thompson says.

But it's those raspberries that have become a big hit at the family home in West Virginia. Her mother, who loves black raspberries, wasn't there when Mrs. Thompson brought some home. But her aunt was.

"Before my mother came home from work, her sister had gobbled down the whole quart with some whole milk and sugar. Now I know I can keep my aunt alive longer as long as I keep bringing home the raspberries."

Mrs. Thompson, who only lives a block away from the garden, spends much of her time weeding and helping new gardeners along.

"Everyone has different goals and different criteria for what a cleaned-up plot looks like," she says. "There's a lot of easy learning and communicating going on."

Dustin Mercer is showing off the razor-sharp hoe he acquired recently at the Regent Square garage sale. His plot is in the Homewood Community Garden, one of the oldest and biggest gardens of its type in the area. The garden, on Forbes Avenue near the Homewood Cemetery, will celebrate its 30th anniversary June 23.

As Mr. Mercer hoes weeds, he talks about finding this place six years ago.

"I remember passing by here and envying that they had all-day sun. From that moment on it was my dream."

Of course that guaranteed his garden was in the shade. "The people were very helpful. They said you can grow spinach and things that you don't need sun for," he says and laughs.

Now he has a space in the sun and is growing tomatoes, greens and other vegetables, along with annual flowers at the edges of his space.

The Homewood gardens are all fenced, and each one is different. Just next door to Mr. Mercer's plot are peonies and daylilies waiting to bloom. Down the path, a young couple creates raised beds. His neighbor has become one of his best friends, he says.

"It's a great community, and I cherish it every year. I have my own business so I don't see a lot of people, and this is a great social experience for me."

Sharing advice and growing as a gardener are some of the common themes at all community gardens -- especially this one.

"Ninety percent of what I do is a learning experience, and that's as much fun as seeing your vegetables grow and bringing them home," he says.

Mr. Mercer looks forward to his summer harvests.

"I look forward to my salsa. I discovered cilantro. I was like 'What is that stuff?' So now I'm looking forward to a completely fresh organic salsa." His cherry tomatoes are a special summer treat: "You don't have to worry about bringing them home. They always seem to find their way into your stomach. It's like candy on a vine."

He visits the garden just about every day of the season.

"I don't have my own children, so it's always a surprise and fulfilling to watch these things grow," Mr. Mercer says. "Few things are so predictable in life that give you that nice reward."

With that, he continued to work that hoe, staying a step ahead of the weeds.