Cribb of Harrisonburg works to remove grass from her plot at the Harrisonburg Community Garden. Community gardens are becoming more popular as people with little or no yard space for gardening come together. Evan Dyson

 The grass is always greener on the other side, especially when you have no grass of your own.

When springtime comes, apartment dwellers find themselves staring wistfully at the gardens that adorn the city's lawns.

But in cities throughout the country, the lawnless are gathering together in city-owned gardens where they can grow vegetables and make friends.

This summer, hopeful gardeners are putting their green thumbs to work in two city gardens, one owned by the city's Department of Parks and Recreation and another operated by Our Community Place.

Community gardens are meant to offer the gardening experience to both novices and masters, while also uniting community members in a common goal. So far, it seems to be working.

An opportunity to grow

The Harrisonburg Community Garden was the pet project of Erik Dart, a recreation specialist at the city's Department of Parks and Recreation.

The garden, built on city-owned land on Garber's Church Road, features 14 20-foot-by-20-foot plots, each rented for $30 per year.

The plots are available to any city resident.

Gardeners include grandmothers, young couples, JMU students and even children who garden on the Harrisonburg Children's Museum's plot. Lisa Shull, director of the museum, hopes their plot will teach children lessons in both agriculture and economics.

"The reason we're doing this is to offer children the experience, from the planting to the harvest," she says. "We're hoping to have regular sessions on Wednesday evenings where families can come and help and then hopefully, schedule a trip to the farmer's market for sales."

Gardeners can plant almost anything, with the exception of trees that will cast shade over other plots. Everything is grown organically, partially out of concern for the environment and also to guard against potential pesticide allergies.

Dart says he started researching community gardens two years ago, when the staff was looking for new programs to develop. "I spent the last two years trying to collect interest," he says.

Dart, who lives in a townhouse, says he was inspired by the limited space in townhouse complexes. "For people who move to the city, this is an opportunity to garden where there isn't one," he says.

It's a growing trend, he adds. "A lot more have popped up in the country, many for educational purposes at schools and churches," he says.

Dart advertised the garden in the department's pamphlets, fliers and online. Finally, this year, he felt enough people were interested. All the lots are taken, with a few more people on a waiting list. If that list gets 12 to 15 more names, Dart says they may consider expanding.

Since the land already belonged to the city, the only development necessary was tilling the land and constructing an electric fence. "It's to keep deer and groundhogs out," Dart explains, then smiles. "I've been trying to fight those groundhogs ... and I think I'm winning!"

The only drawback to gardening on a community plot is the potential for thievery or destruction. "I'm praying that people don't steal off other plots," he says. "Because it's pretty tough to prove that."

A sense of community

Dart's vision is slowly but surely taking shape: people are meeting, sharing and learning from each other. "Susan Shifflett has to be the most excited," he says. "She has interacted with a few different people now and she always sends e-mails to tell me about it."

Shifflett, 59, visits her garden a few times a week. Last Friday, she was there, squinting at the rain clouds in the distance. "Better not stay long," she said, plodding around her vegetables.

Shifflett, bookkeeper for JMU's student newspaper The Breeze, grew up gardening on her family's land in McGaheysville. Now, she lives in a townhouse in the city. "I'm a country person," she said. "When I decided to move to the city, I knew I wouldn't have a garden."

She was immediately interested in the community garden when she saw the advertisement in the department's pamphlet. She signed up and started planting corn, beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, lettuce, spinach, radishes and potatoes in early May.

Since then, she has met several other gardeners. Each of them has a different style, and they have compared notes on their gardening techniques.

"I talked with the gentleman beside me and he decided to put down straw instead of soil," she said, pointing to rows of plants sprouting from a bed of straw.

She has helped some of the younger gardeners, as well. "Some have gardened before, but the young man on the end seemed to be new," she said, gesturing to the furthest plot. "He asked me if I didn't think it was too early to plant my stuff and I told him it wasn't."

The gardeners gain a sense of community that is often missing in apartment and townhouse complexes. "I've come over here and people will be out working and I'll talk to them," Shifflett said. "It's great to talk to someone with the same interest."

Two plots down, Tad Williams has planted kidney beans, squash, sunflowers, corn, cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes. Williams, 31, is an agricultural inspector for the Virginia Department of Environmental Equality who grew up gardening in Broadway.

His gardens have been confined to tiny pots on his back porch since he moved back to Harrisonburg from Manassas last year. Now, he is excited to be revisiting the hobby of his youth. "Growing up, I hated to weed and I hated to pick beans, but then I got the bug," he said Saturday, wiping sweat from his brow. "Gardening became stress relief."

The community garden allows people to pool their resources. "We've shared garden hoes," he said, chuckling. "I've met a few people. We're usually out here mornings and evenings, before and after work."

By far, he said the best thing about the community garden is what comes out of the soil. "I'm a firm believer that nothing comes without hard work," Williams said. "I'm not an expert, but I've tasted store-bought tomatoes and the ones I grew up eating were far superior."

A garden gives back

Across town, the garden at Our Community Place on North Main Street is thriving. Row after row of plants yields fresh veggies - peas, onions, red onions, potatoes, collard greens, spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers and strawberries.

On Monday, Ron Copeland, director of Our Community Place, ran his hand through the leafy pea plants. "We picked enough to fill a five-gallon bucket today and I bet we could pick another five gallons," he said.

The strawberries were almost completely picked clean. "They were so good, we ate them all," he said. "They tasted like sugar."

Our Community Place is a non-profit community center and future soup kitchen. Its garden yields veggies and fruit that travel directly across the street to the Little Grill Collective's weekly soup kitchen.

At Monday's free lunch, Copeland announced that the diners would feast on five gallons of peas. "They're beautiful," he said, as the crowd cheered. He added that the strawberries went into a fruit salad, and heads of lettuce were free for anyone who needed them.

Unlike the city-owned garden, no one rents plots, but anyone can come help. Copeland said the garden is the result of hard work by Pastor Ray Hurst and his congregation at Community Mennonite Church.

"He took a sabbatical and asked what he could do to help and I asked him what his wildest fantasy was," Copeland said. "He said he would love to have a big garden and get to know people."

Soon after, he arrived at 9 a.m. sharp one morning with volunteers, seeds and plants. "This garden has been here five or six years but Ray really took it to the next level," Copeland said.

Like the city's garden, the only drawback to their public garden is the potential to have food stolen, but since the food would eventually be served for free, Copeland doesn't mind. "We've had some cabbage stolen, but I figure if you are stealing cabbage, you must really need it," he said.

Strangers donate many of their plants and seeds. Just the other day, someone unloaded enough herbs to fill a separate garden. Brian Farrell, a city resident, tends to the garden with some help from occasional volunteers.

He started planting in March, and just like the gardeners at the city-owned garden, he has found the experience therapeutic. "Being from the country, I miss not being able to garden," he said. "I like getting in the dirt and watching things grow."
Even if the soil is not his own.