I miss my Cistus purpurea

When I moved in February, I left behind a huge shrub that’d started out as a wee 4-inch pot from a local nursery.  It bloomed like crazy all year, save the rainy season and when it got seriously cold.  And the cuttings were nice.

The BF gave it a haircut every year, sometimes twice a year, and I’d give away cuttings, dry leaves, tincture those, and generally have a blast imagining the Cistus ladanifer of southern Spain.  Purpurea is almost as fragrant.  On a warm day when the air is still, you can smell the sticky resiny sweetness of the stalks and leaves.  Lucy Fuzzbutterson had a thing for snoozing under the shrub in the sun although she learned to not rub against the trunk; for one thing it attracted insects to chase and stalk.

Alas, ‘Maxine’ (yeah, I name plants…) was too large to uproot and transport and transplant into the scant space that would’ve been available at the new abode.

So, I’m looking for another.  Ideally a ladanifer if I can find one.