Reggae Festival on the River

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I’m not a particularly good dancer. Basically, I don’t know how to dance. At all. I just never learned. And because I have this weird fear of — what’s the term? — “shaking what my momma gave me,” I tend to avoid dance floors. But there’s something about this one evening in the summertime, when the sun has set and the music is right and maybe I’ve had a little too much free-flowing rum punch, that I just really enjoy that dance floor. A few weekends ago, my sister, niece and cousins hit Reggae on the Delta, a teeny tiny music festival on a point on the Delta. Here’s how it went for us. reggae_3 reggae_4 reggae_5 reggae_6 reggae_7 reggae_8 reggae_9 reggae_10 reggae_11 reggae_12 reggae_13 reggae_14 reggae_15 reggae_16 reggae_16a reggae_17 reggae_18 reggae_19 reggae_20 reggae_21 reggae_22 reggae_22a reggae_23 reggae_24 reggae_25 reggae_26 reggae_27 reggae_28 reggae_29 reggae_30 reggae_31 reggae_32

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