Who knows where it goes?

Time has flown by; we now face the true end of summer and the start of the wet season, predicted tomorrow.  It's chilly in the morning, and stays dim until late afternoon.  A bright spot this noontime was the vision of a young hummingbird - I say "young", as it looked small and its plumage seemed undefined, maybe that means it was female - perching on a patch of St. John's Wort, which was dew-decked from a sprinkler system, as we've had no rain - in a kind of ecstasy, drinking the water drops with its long tongue and rolling its tiny body in them, a combination bath and beverage session; I stood stock still and watched for about five minutes, then tried to sneak away without frightening the little creature.
I've never seen anything quite like it, except for the hummingbirds which dive-bombed us from their wild honeysuckle patch while we hiked past them on the PCT.  Or the nesting grouse that chased us down a trail; these small sparks of life are fierce.