The wild violets are coming for you

And other dangers of native plants

In the middle of winter, I began dreaming of a patch of wild violets around our mailbox. Why violets? They’re lovely harbingers of spring, an early pollen source for bees, and the host plant for fritillary butterflies. Plus, violets don’t need mowing—a bonus around the mailbox post.

A fritillary butterfly on the common knapweed

But how could I create my patch of violets? None of the area nurseries sold them.

“Violets are all over our yard,” my husband Bryan told me. “You just need to transplant some and they’ll take off.” While I remembered a few violets in our yard, I thought all over might be a stretch. I didn’t want my violet patch to come at the expense of our yard violets, and so I bought three packets of seeds and popped them in the fridge to cold stratify.

I also googled “violets” and “how to” and discovered there aren’t many guides on growing wild violets. There are, however, a lot of companies offering to poison those already growing. This one leaned into dramatic capitalization:

Don’t be fooled by the innocent looks of the invasive Wild Violet. If left untreated, the Wild Violet can take root and become one of your turfs biggest predators. Although the Wild Violet wears a mask of beauty, once established, this weed will be invading your lawn for years…and years…and years. Break the cycle and cut your ties with the Wild Violet weed before its too late.

The last line gets me every time—“cut your ties with the Wild Violet weed before its too late,” and I imagine a cartoon Wild Violet lurking on the corner, selling drugs to children.

But I have questions. How can wild violets be invaders when they’re native, and turf grass isn’t? And why shouldn’t homeowners welcome violets into their yard? What exactly is the downside? Are we humans so damaged that we see a lovely addition in our grass as something to kill?

Let’s compare violets and turf grass: Violets are the only host plant to the fritillary butterflies, while turf grass provides nothing for bees or butterflies. Violets are native to the United States, which means they’re part of our ecosystem, and yet, like grass, they can be mowed and handle foot traffic just fine. Unlike grass, they don’t need to be mowed. And violets have charming flowers—ask anyone named Violet. But because they thrive without pesticides or fertilizers, no one makes money from violets, and that seems to be their undoing. Turf grass keeps a lot of companies in business.

So how has my violet experiment gone? This spring, I removed the grass around our mailbox and looked for violets to transplant. Bryan was right, as he so often is. Our yard was covered in dangerous wild violets, and though I transplanted 40-50 baby plants, you couldn’t tell any were gone. I then sprinkled my seeds over my transplants. The summer is half over, and my violet patch, as my daughter says, is “a triumph.” Next spring, we should have a square of purple. And there will still be purple flowers scattered throughout our yard.

This newsletter isn’t to persuade you to grow violets, though I hope you’ll welcome those that show up in your yard. Rather, it’s an invitation to re-imagine the American lawn. Living through climate change is stressful, and “the single best antidote for climate anxiety is action,” says Anthony Leiserowitz, the director of Yale’s Climate Change Communication.

There are few more satisfying actions than gardening with native plants. With a bit of effort, you get to watch an ecosystem develop outside your door. I spend a lot of time gazing at the insects on the swamp milkweed, the toads hopping in the shade garden, the butterflies flitting by the front window, and the baby violets growing around the mailbox.

L to R: swamp milkweed, blazing star, fireweed, false sunflower, Joe Pye weed, coneflower.

Personal Action: Plant native plants.

Why It Matters: Insect populations are collapsing because of climate change, pesticide use, and loss of habitat, among others. In the essay, “The Insect Apocalypse and Why it Matters,” researcher Dave Goulson explains the stakes: “Without insects, a multitude of birds, bats, reptiles, amphibians, small mammals and fish would disappear. 87% of all plant species require animal pollination, most of it delivered by insects.”

The threat is real and the solution is practical: Garden with bugs in mind. A lawn can be a resource. The state of Minnesota paid homeowners to replace grass with “bee lawns,” in order to save the endangered rusty patch bumble bee.

Why think about this now: July is an excellent month to make a plan before autumn and autumn is an excellent season to plant. (So is spring.)

Tips to get started:

• Remove grass. Last autumn, we used the lasagna method to remove large sections of grass. When spring rolled in, the ground was ready for planting.

• Be sure the plants you’re using are native to your region and are adapted to the growing conditions. Shade plants like shade. Full sun plants like sun. Cardinal flowers likes wet feet. Butterfly weed prefers dry soil.

• Be attentive to keystone plants. We’ve leaned into goldenrod (zigzag and rough leaf), milkweed (common and swamp), ironweed, and Joe Pye weed.

• Be patient. As they say about native plants: First year, sleep. Second year, creep. Third year, leap. With our garden, we’re somewhere between sleep and creep and I’m truly anticipating that third year leap.

Public Action: Native gardening is fun and important, but we also want to change the systems. Leave a public comment with the United States Forest Service asking them to reduce logging of old growth trees on public land. A shoutout to Earth Justice for making commenting so easy and accessible.

Why it Matters: If our yards are important places to support insect life, imagine the value of old growth forests. We need to collectively lend our voices to ensure their survival.

Link round up:

• What I’m currently reading: The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson, #2 on the New York Times list of best books of the 21st century.

• A board game my kid and I can’t stop playing: Savernake Forest.

• The book series I’m reading with my daughter this summer: Emily of New Moon by L.M. Montgomery.

• A good deal: Amazon is selling my memoir, Wait for God to Notice, for $13.23 (list price $19.00). I’m not a fan of Amazon, but here we are.