Nestled in the wild heart of Croatia lies a place that feels both ancient and otherworldly; the Eye of the Earth, or Izvor Cetine, the extraordinary spring from which the mighty River Cetina is born.
I had seen photos; its circular, jewel-toned waters, impossibly clear and blue, like the iris of some slumbering giant – but nothing could prepare me for the energy of standing there in person. As I approached the edge, I felt it immediately. A silence that was not empty, but full. As though the land itself was holding its breath.
There was beauty; turquoise waters and surrounding limestone cliffs, but beneath the beauty, a strange presence lingered. It felt almost sentient. Mysterious. Watching. I felt as though I had wandered too close to a place that wasn’t meant for people, a place that held the memory of myths and spirits long forgotten. My skin prickled as though something deep below had stirred.
The Eye descends to a depth of over 150 meters, yet its bottom has never truly been touched. That unknown depth called to me – and unnerved me. I found myself imagining a mythical beast rising silently from its cold waters, ancient and slow, eyes older than time. Not malevolent, just other. As though the Earth had an eye… and it was quietly opening.
There was magic there, too. The kind that reminds us how little we know. How alive and mysterious nature truly is. In that moment, I was humbled by the presence of something vast and untamed. The Eye of the Earth is not just a spring; it is a portal. A reminder that the Earth has hidden places that speak in a language older than words. A language of water, stone and stillness.
I left changed.
Back in the rhythm of daily life, I find myself still haunted – softly, strangely – by that silent gaze. And I am grateful. For in that gaze, I was reminded that there are still places where mystery lives. Where nature doesn’t perform, but simply is – deep, powerful and sacred.
Let us cherish that.