A Carpet of Wild Violets

By Sara Wright

Wild violets come in all shades ranging from ecclesiastical purple to delft blue, various shades of lavender, pale pink, lemony yellow, and white.

When I was young, I used to pick fragrant bouquets of deep purple violets to take to school for my teacher. My grandmother had thousands, and they came in all colors, and because she let them grow in both sun and shade, the season lasted all spring into early summer. 

Wild violets do come in all shades, ranging from ecclesiastical purple to delft blue, various shades of lavender, pale pink, lemony yellow and white. If allowed to naturalize, new color combinations appear each year – a joy to witness. I have violets that carpet the ground all around my house and thousands in my field. This year all were hugging the earth in mid-May with fewer open blossoms than usual. My guess is that last year’s drought and a very cold, windy spring dampened their enthusiasm. 

Now that it’s June, masses of wild violets stretch across my entire yard in a creamy white and purple blue haze that will last into early July.  A multitude of two spotted bumblebees (Bombus bimaculatus) provide an astonishing hum as they pollinate the first flowers. Drifts of wild violet clumps are woven through the roots of sapphire blue ajuga spires, dandelions, forget me nots, and indigo bird’s eye speedwell, creating a patchwork of bewildering beauty and a feast for all. 

Wild violets are members of the Violaceae family. I am not including various species because naming is a problem with so much overlap. The tiniest white ones that I call swamp violets like living in marshlands, but all wild violets gravitate towards moist areas. They will grow in sun, part shade or deep shade in many types of soil if the ground is moist enough. They also thrive in woodland areas peeking out of decaying leaf matter. The little yellow violets seem to have a penchant for our woodlands.

Violets are perennials that range in size from one to eight inches depending upon location. 

“Thriving quietly beneath our feet, wild violets weave beauty and resilience into the landscape while sustaining a world of pollinators.”

Like so many wild plants that I am attracted to these days, I think of wild violets as survivors because they have so many strategies to reproduce. Violets spread vigorously by rhizomes, cloning, and by seed.  

Rhizomes grow just below or at the surface of the soil, allowing the plant to form dense colonies. They effectively clone themselves by producing genetically identical leaves and flowers from the original parent plant.

The literature tells us that wild violets have five petals. Around here I count five or six, all with astonishing veins and pansy-like faces that coalesce in the flower’s pale center, or throat, in the most imaginative ways.

Violets have two types of blossoms: the familiar ones we see peppering lawns and fields throughout the spring, and small green oblong ‘flower-fruits’ that appear close to the ground in midsummer. The latter do not open and self-fertilize. As the green fruits dry, tiny brown seeds explode, and each may create a new plant. Wild violet seeds also have an elaiosome coating that contains lipids and proteins that ants find irresistible. Like some other ephemerals, ants carry the seeds home to feed their larvae with the protein rich substance, discarding and dispersing more seeds in the process.

Even more interesting to this naturalist is that violet roots can produce hidden flowers that self-pollinate underground to produce seeds (cleistogamous flowers). The old adage ‘as above so below’ comes to life with this strategy for survival.

Most of my wild violet leaves are heart shaped.  Some are fuzzy, others smooth. The exception is the little oval leaves of the yellow woodland violet. Interestingly, violet leaves also have a smooth waxy surface which can reduce the effects of herbicide use. (Hooray!)

Wild violets provide a source of nectar and pollen for many native bees, wasps, butterflies and flies when other plants are not available. Some evidence indicates that violet flowers transform over the season to accommodate a variety of pollinators. They are also a preferred egg-laying host for many fritillary butterflies.

If you are not overly fond of lawns and looking for spectacular alternatives, I highly recommend these delightful spreading carpets that don’t attract ticks, never turn brown and don’t need mowing!

All the wild bees will thank you!

Subscribe to Small Things