Perhaps A Different Violet

Day 195: I'm confused. Of the 18+ species of Violet native to the Pacific Northwest, a full third are yellow. The remainder are divided between white and blue almost equally. In hexadecimal notation, "violet" is #7F00FF (ribbon background). According to my box of crayons, it's a purple somewhat darker and slightly rosier than that defined by the hex triplet. Streamside Violet (Viola glabella, above) isn't even close with its rich canary shade. Surely there is some logic behind the common appellation of these adorable wildflowers, but would it not have been simpler to refer to them as "violas" rather than anglicizing their scientific name to one so radically different from their nature? No one could confuse them with the musical instrument of the same name and, if one was called upon to justify the term, the shape of the bottom petal and its "bee-guide" stripes bears some resemblance to a viola (stringed). I find this kink in the English language quite distressing, and until someone sorts it out, I will be describing the Goldfinch's brilliant summer feathers as violet in hue.

Announcing Spring's Arrival

Day 172: In the Pacific Northwest, the color of early spring is yellow. It starts with Skunk Cabbage, quickly followed by daffodils, forsythia and a less welcome sight, dandelions. Scotch Broom rounds out the golden time as the first blues intrude, its masses of sneezeworthy flowers looming above the Camas prairies, but soon Mother Nature broadens her palette until summer becomes a riot of hues. Painted with splashes of orange and dots of red, dashed here and there with purples and pinks, accented with bursts of white, her canvas is one of motley in July. Perhaps she feels she must introduce us gently to her art by demonstrating a clear, pure style, and then encouraged by our acceptance, she seeks to surprise us with something boldly avant garde in her second showing. For now, though, she is in her Yellow Period. Spring has arrived.