Jajce // My Sockets are Swimming
© Shutterstock.com
Nature is magnificently simple. It takes millions and billions and gazillions of years for things to move into place, but that in itself is simple. It is just things doing stuff. Mountains are awesome in all meanings, and almost all of that is derived from the simplicity of, you know, being a really big thing. The inner workings of nature are complex, but that isn’t my point. We like nature because it appeals to our inner child in an aesthetic sense.
Waterfalls are about as simple as it gets. That is true linguistically, as well. How to describe a waterfall? It is where water falls. Water is falling, waterfall. Paper on the wall, wallpaper. You get the point. Simplicity is easy to adore, by definition.
Still, I stood gawping at the Pliva Waterfalls in Jajce for a long time. I was drenched, a far from ideal state of affairs in the middle of December, but worth every sniffle that would come later. Of all the wonderful images in Bosnia and Herzegovina that draw awe and wonder, it is these cascading beauties that might sit at the top of the table.
I mean, just look at it. Take a moment, stop reading, and look at it. The world is full of stunning waterfalls that draw gasps, but Jajce is the only town in the world that has a waterfall in the middle of it. The town developed around this powerful display of nature’s simplicity, a functional nugget of wonder that just so happens to be astoundingly beautiful. Jajce has seen good times and bad, but the waterfall has been there through it all. If that is the case, I could surely stand here a little longer. Besides, I was already soaked through. I was already wet. Leaving now would only succeed in making me wish I’d spent more time gawping at an immense display of nature’s power.
© Mike Ilchenko // Shutterstock.com
Of course, everything isn’t this simple. The waterfalls haven’t always been in this spot, they haven’t always been this size, and they haven’t always been how they seem to have been. They used to be bigger, 30 metres instead of 22. They used to be right at the confluence of the Pliva and Vrbas rivers, but a treacherous combination of earthquakes, war, floods and the unbridled autonomy of Mother Nature meant they were always at risk. They have been strengthened, renovated, helped and moved, but they have remained influential all the while. Unsurprisingly, they are the symbol of Jajce. After all, if you had waterfalls in the middle of your town, why would you bother with anything else?
The minutiae of history don’t make a dent when you are standing in front of the Pliva Falls. All that sings is nature, a violent cascading of water that waits for no man, unless that man is helping to fix things up. Sufficiently sopping wet, I dragged myself away from the falls back towards the road, stopping at the original viewpoint for one last loving look towards something genuinely incredible.
