Donate Now
Home / Blogs / In Search of a Native Cousin: The Quiet Glory of the Narrowleaf Evening Primrose
August 6, 2025
Photo credit: Dennis Ludlow (Sharkshock)
Each summer across the American South, neighborhoods erupt in clouds of color from the crepe myrtle tree. With its papery blossoms in pink, lavender, and white, the tree has become a landscape darling, a hallmark of warm-season charm. It is one of the plants that our partners most often ask to be planted in urban settings. But for all its popularity, there’s something curiously alien about this Southern icon: it’s not from here.
The crepe myrtle (Lagerstroemia indica), for all its local adoration, is native to Asia. In fact, no members of its botanical family—the Lythraceae—are native to North America. Like its floral cousin purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria), another Lythraceae interloper, the crepe myrtle stands as a beautiful outsider in the American ecological tapestry.
That sent me on a botanical investigation: if no members of the crepe myrtle’s family are native, could we find a deeper relative—perhaps a cousin once or twice removed—that’s been here all along and could fill the itch of our local tree planters?
I zoomed out from the Lythraceae family and looked to the broader order Myrtales, the group that contains not only the crepe myrtle and loosestrife, but also cloves (Syzygium aromaticum), allspice (Pimenta dioica), Eucalyptus Trees, Henna (Lawsonia inermis), and the Pomegranate tree (Punica granatum). All exotic. All foreign to North American soil.
It seemed the entire order was an imported phenomenon. But then—tucked away at the edge of Myrtales’ sprawling family tree—I found it.
Photo credit: Wildflowers of the National Capital Region
At last, a native member of the Myrtales order: Oenothera fruticosa, also known as the narrowleaf evening primrose or narrow-leaved sundrops. A delicate perennial wildflower with bright yellow blossoms that open in the day and glow like tiny suns in open meadows, roadsides, and woodland edges. While not a tree, I wanted to learn more anyways.
This plant, with its slender leaves and lemon-colored blooms, belongs to the Onagraceae family—the evening primrose family—nestled within the Myrtales order. And it’s proudly native to the eastern and southeastern United States, from New York to Florida, westward to Texas and Minnesota.
Here, at last, is our native cousin to the crepe myrtle. Not a flowering tree towering over suburban driveways, but a modest wildflower, content to thrive in dry soils and full sun, fluttering with pollinators.
Photo credit: PlantNet.org
A closer look at the narrowleaf evening primrose reveals its quiet brilliance:
Though it doesn’t tower or bloom with the drama of crepe myrtle, the narrowleaf evening primrose tells a different kind of story. It speaks to a subtle beauty, and the deep, evolutionary ties that still exist underfoot from thousands of years past. And for gardeners and conservationists seeking authenticity in their landscapes, O. fruticosa is a welcome native alternative—or at least a symbolic kin—to the dominant, imported trees we’ve grown to love.
The search for a native cousin to the crepe myrtle may seem like a botanical trivia quest. But in truth, it’s a reflection of a broader cultural shift. As the climate warms and ecosystems fray, the plants we choose to grow have consequences.
In Oenothera fruticosa, we find not only a cousin—but a connection. To place. To history. To the rich and often overlooked world of native flora.
So next time you admire the crepe myrtle’s flamboyant bloom, remember its quiet cousin glowing from the meadow’s edge—the narrowleaf evening primrose—an American original.
And if you’re considering replacing or diversifying your landscape with more native plants, here are some spectacular, showy native alternatives to crepe myrtle that not only provide beauty but support local ecosystems:
Photo credit: Sugar Creek Gardens
Photo credit: Central Park Conservancy
Forests Projects Coordinator
email
Forests for the Bay