Meridianus, or the story of the apex.
Around 1944 Alice Eastwood received word of a variant of L. dichotomus in Northern California. This original published description consisted of a population within Lake Co. with large white flowers that were open when the sun was at its meridian.
The description itself is short, with little to distinguish the different populations but a time and place mentioned by a colleague. It’s been generally understood that the most north populations acted differently that southern populations, but there was never a definite answer to how this behavior acted across the range. Somewhere along the way this variant was elevated to subspecies, and history is such; meridianus loves the sun and the day, while dichotomus thrives in the night. Meridianus is endemic and abundance in the northern coastal ranges, but not too far north and not too far coast; dichotomus loves the arid environments of the southern stretch of the state.
Meridianus itself is now known for larger petals, a different scent composition, and a smaller aperture (Chess 2008); although all these indicators are a part of a larger correlation that does not declare any single trait or character limitation that can define the subspecies beyond “yes, I AM different”. When considering habitat, I have mostly seen this plant lineage establish itself in and around the toxic outcrops of serpentine soils, it does not seem to be a good competitor against the invasive grasslands of mesic weather.
Who knew there would be such complexity. There are conflicts in specimen identifications by renowned botanists. There are tales of southern bells opening up in shaded canyons, and finicky corollas staying furled from the weather. Is it possible this definition could be so plastic? Is it possible dispersal happens across hundreds of miles on heavy pollen and wispy seeds? Maybe so. While there is no definite answer to what the exact and most efficient pollinator of this system, there is light observation and speculation: hawk moths. They travel far and wide, day and/or night depending on the species and system; opportunists, always looking for the next scent-sweetened meal. The idea of genetic exchange across large swaths of land no longer seems impossible.
Especially considering the seeds. Light, wispy, like a bubble-wrap balloon waiting to catch the next sundown wind chasing through the canyons. A trait that floats on water, to eventual sink with the absorption of enough moisture for a new generation to emerge.
I digress. This plant is fascinating, and spread far beyond the Coastal ranges above San Francisco. If you love the North, and love to reject general naturalist dogma, your challenge here is to find plants beyond Lake and Napa Co; There are known county occurrences from Shasta to Tehama, Butte to El Dorado, and I am fascinated by what these plants do and where they are. Are they the same? Are they different? Are they something entirely unique? Is it futile to try and tell them apart?
Eastwood, A., & Howell, J. T. (1944). Leaflets of western botany., v.4 1944-1. Retrieved from http://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/item/46255
Chess, S. K. R., Raguso, R. A., & Lebuhn, G. (2008). Geographic divergence in floral morphology and scent in Linanthus dichotomus (Polemoniaceae). American Journal of Botany, 95(12), 1652–9. http://doi.org/10.3732/ajb.0800118