We've had violets, but this year we have violets, such a plush pile carpet of them that I've taken to the impossible: trying to weed out the other weeds around them (for violets are a weed, though arguably a healthy one).
Sometimes they are white. This is a stand in the roadbed down the street from us.
White violets are said not to be rare, but neither are they all that common. There was a stand of them in Merritt's Pasture once, but we haven't been able to find it in recent years.
Last summer we had a patio built. The first plants to colonize the bare earth around the edges were violets. That experience makes me think that this story might be true:
Tradition has it that the land was cleared of all violets late in the afternoon of the first day of construction. The next morning, when the workers returned, they found that the hearty purple and white violets had bloomed again.
Around the patio is where I'm trying hardest to keep the other weeds out. It's a losing battle, but on days like we've had lately, it's a pleasant enough exercise. Yesterday I saw my first butterfly of the season (a tiger swallowtail).