Her hips swayed in opposition to her arms. Hands held just so -- fingers extended, as if accentuating the beat. Head bent. Neck elongated, in contrast to her chin and closed eyes downcast. Gazing past her swaying thighs and knees and feet and toes, pointed just so. To her daughter. The mother was not watching the daughter. The mother was dancing with her pre-teen daughter. And I was a voyeur -- captivated by this innocent couple dancing alongside the stage of an outdoor music festival.

I was sitting in the grass enjoying the music, a rhythmic mix of drum and guitar that thumped an endless dance tune. The summer sun was beating down, warming the gathered rows into a perfect reverie of delicious relaxation. Except for the little girl dancing with her mother.

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