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The Brooks Park community garden sits on a knobby, windy hilltop with near views of San Francisco and Daly City, and a far view of the Pacific. With a plastic watering can left for the use of gardeners, I was dreamily watering lettuce seedlings in our nano-ranch when a high-energy individual sped up and gave me a once-over. It was an hummingbird, in immature plumage, and it seemed intent, hovering a few feet away. What was on its mind?

Before the current drought, when we still ran a sprinkler in the back yard, I have seen hummingbirds  catching drops, so perhaps this bird was interested in the water. I held the can out at arm's length and tilted it so water ran from the nozzle in arcs of spray. The hummingbird zipped over, buzzing in and out of the spray. Once it opened its beak wide, maybe fifty degrees, but at other moments I guessed it was just getting water with its tongue.

We were both happy until a slightly larger hummingbird zoomed up and drove the drinking bird away. They raced off at high speed. I turned back to the lettuces until the second hummingbird, returning, also positioned itself in front of me, moving up and down. It had just a beginning fleck of an iridescent gorget at its throat, so it suppose it was a young male. Again the bird seemed to make eye contact.

Another thirsty customer? I tilted the watering can. A pause as the hummingbird hung in the air. It beelined up to the nozzle and inserted its beak into one of the holes. That seems like drinking from a hose with your mouth right on it, and you get a big drink pretty quickly that way, so I wasn't surprised when the hummingbird left a few moments later.

I'm still pondering what was on those young hummingbirds' minds. I wasn't wearing anything floral-patterned or brightly colored, so I wasn't attracting them that way. Most likely they were thirsty, saw that water was around, and came to study the situation. Perhaps as they surveyed me they wondered, “Where does the water come out of this thing?” I would bet other gardeners have been approached – maybe there's a custom of watering the hummers that I'm just finding out about.

It had the casual feel of a routine transaction. Like bumming a cigarette. “Lady. Yeah, you. Human lady. Got a drop to spare?”