In the month since we met three devotees of community gardens, each has prospered amid the wet, humid summer weather.

Wearing only a tank top and a pair of boxers, Jana Thompson bravely maneuvers through a tangled array of thorny black and red raspberry canes filled with berries. She had already picked several pint containers and is filling still another. Her plot at the Olde Allegheny Community Gardens in Pittsburgh's Mexican War Streets is mostly perennials, and it just needs a little weeding here and there, something Mrs. Thompson loves to do. The berries are a present for her husband, Bruce, and her aunt who's visiting from West Virginia. She has cut the scapes (seed heads) off the top of her garlic and used them in "a lovely butter sauce with scallops." She said she's drowning in lettuce, often picking too much for the couple to eat.

Mrs. Thompson, coordinator of this community garden, has had lots of cooperation from member gardeners keeping invasives and weeds at bay.

"As far as I know, there's not been a single morning glory bloom in this garden yet, so all is well," she said, smiling.

There has been no vandalism this year, but three azaleas were surreptitiously planted in the garden -- "the only weird thing that's happened so far," she said.

As Mrs. Thompson takes a long step out of the raspberry patch, one long cane grabs ahold, evoking an "ouch!" and leaving behind a long red scratch on her back.

"Battle wounds of the gardener," she said with a laugh. "Mean, mean little plants."

Homewood mystery

Dustin Mercer has figured out the name of his favorite plant in his plot at the Homewood Community Garden. He discovered the bright yellow flowers blooming in the valley below Sestili Nursery, which now makes sense to him. His neighbor at the garden saw the plant at the nursery and said its name was Ozark sundrops (Oenothera macrocarpa ssp. fremontii 'Silver Wings'). His friend nicknamed it the "Asphalt Queen," an appropriate name considering that Mr. Mercer found it growing in blacktop.

The journey of discovery is what he loves about gardening. What he thought was a beautiful weed turned out to be a relatively new cultivar.

"It's like Christmas every time you come down here, a new little present each day."

The perimeter of the garden is filled with pink sweet peas climbing a border fence along with cosmos, blue bachelor buttons and orange nasturtiums. The interior of the garden is filled with tomatoes, celery, beans and a variety of vegetables and herbs.

"Rosemary is my new addiction," he said. "Last year, a woman told me about rosemary potatoes [and] her eyes sort of rolled back into her head. I love that stuff. It has a great kind of earthy pungent flavor."

He has just finished stomping the tops of his onions down, something another neighbor told him to do to get bigger bulbs. As the grayish green foliage falls beneath his feet, Mr. Mercer has taken a leap of faith. The abundant rainfall has been a friend to him and his plants.

"It's going extremely well," he said. "Everything feels happy."

Mt. Lebanon jungle

Of the three gardens, Tony Frick's plot in the Mt. Lebanon Community Gardens has gone through the greatest metamorphosis. The once-wide paths have been overtaken by deep green foliage, making passage a little like walking a tightrope.

He takes advantage of every inch of the garden to plant. His third -- yes, third! -- planting of lettuce went in at the same time as a second crop of tiny corn seedlings. The lettuce will be shaded from the hot summer sun by the tall corn stalks, and it will be ready to be picked as the corn starts to take off. His first crop of corn, meanwhile, is well above the knee-high level.

"I think it's a little further advanced this year. The weather has cooperated for me," he said.

Part of community gardening is bringing your own tools. Mr. Frick brings a shovel, watering can, radio (he loves to listen to music while he works), fertilizer, twine, lettuce plants and his favorite tool, a pickax that he swears by as a cultivating tool. He uses it to keep his soft, fertile soil loose.

He plants something new each week. This time, it's some late-ripening tomatoes. When the early crop tires, this late planting will thrive into September.

"I thank God every time for helping things to grow so well," he said. "I think it's a miracle just to watch things grow."

Doug Oster can be reached at doster@post-gazette.com or 724-772-9177.