Technically, the headwater is the end of the tributary stream farthest from the river’s end…the direction of the crow’s tail, on the tallest pine in the forest somewhere in Minnesota determines whether the water runs to the St Laurence or the Mississippi, as begins the story of Minn of the Mississippi.   Headwaters have a certain innate mythic weight, similar to that of a spring. 

Headwaters are also the furthest extant of a watershed’s boundary line.  Watersheds are almost fractal in nature and at their boundaries the matter of a few inches can shift the water’s path, by a mile or by a continent.  Yellow Mountain has a river watershed boundary running through it,  interwoven, like a series of fingers.  The east and west sides of the property drain south into the Nepaug river; the center drains north into the Farmington river.  At what exact point on the ridges does the water switch from one to the other?  Does the way the crow sit in the pine tree matter?  It can actually, and that such a small action can make such a difference is somewhat strange and wonderful to contemplate.