Old-fashioned sweet violets are the epitome of endurance—except for that magical, fleeting fragrance.

My (admittedly weedy) sweet violets are blooming. They are exceptionally fragrant—I love them so. Which is a very good thing because, even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could ever get rid of them. Scattered along the fringes of my garden’s beds and borders, today’s plants are the progeny of a single 4-inch nursery pot purchased in the late 1990s. They have survived complete neglect and massive renovation in equal measure: See “weedy” above. I’m going with resilient.

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GROW in the Seattle Times.