What’s behind Non-Wood Forest Products?
What do people think and know about wild forest products (WFPs)? The answer to this question is not easy.
We then had two options:
- forget about the question or
- discover what do people really know and think about NWFPs.
As Etifor, we prefer second option! To do this we involved the people we daily share our workspace with: the students of the Agripolis campus of the University of Padova. In fact, being hosted by the University, Etifor’s headquarter have hundreds of forest and agriculture students around. We would like to understand how forest students consider WFPs, not by unemotional questionnaire or a paper, but we decided to ask to students to tell a history, through a series of photo!
The INCREDIBLE Photo Contest was promoted, with the help of the University Forest Student Association (AUSF Padova). They were asked to provide up to 3 photographs that describe a value chain of a NWFP. Furthermore, students were asked to provide a text that describes the relations between product, territory and people.
The materials collected were judged by a committee composed by foresters, graphic designers and passionate photographers. The photos of the 10 best participants were then presented at the General Assembly of the INCREDIBLE project, hosted in Padova the 3rd and 4th of December 2018.
This brief contest was an interesting experience, with students that challenged themselves to deepen their knowledge in a subject that is definitely not properly treated at the university.
The analysis of the material collected emerged that, sometimes, there’s not enough awareness of the environmental, social and economic importance of NWFPs. In fact, value chains behind these products are long, complex and remains very often far from end consumers.
Incredible project can help to fulfil these aspects, promoting and supporting events aimed to share and communicate the knowledge and the importance of NWFPs.
Are you curios to see the shots and discover the winners? Find them out and see their pictures at the following link!!
Projekt “Inovativne mreže dionika vezanih za pluto, smolu i jestive nedrvne šumske proizvode u mediteranskom bazenu” (INCREDIBLE) financira Europska komisija u sklopu programa Obzor 2020 (ugovor o financiranju Nº 774632).
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“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.
The one shower after his workout and practice had been a good start. But the walk home had tired him. But the massaging jets of water caressing across his muscular frame takes the weariness from his bones from this stressful day.
“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.
I didn’t move and I didn’t want to move because the smell in there is so toxic. I can smell daddy’s unwashed ass in there. I was also so happy as daddy sat on the toilet to released his scent just for me to sniff. Just when The scent faded away I heard the daddy say, “Come here, boy.” I saw daddy sitting on my couch with nothing but a white brief on. The bulge was staring at me. I knew I was going to be having a wonderful night.
His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son.
“You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son.
“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.
The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.
“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants.
“Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”
“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.
His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds.
That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.”
“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region.
Daddy smiled and said, “ that is my good boy. Don’t even want to leave your daddy’s Ripe socks on the floor. That’s the respect I love boy.” I then was told to clean his left foot. “Scrub these whitish paste out in my toenails. I want you to smell and place them in your mouth and let me see.” Daddy commented. It smelled and tasted like Brie cheese. Then I moved my tongue in between daddy’s toes. I cleaned up so well. Just thought I was finished. Daddy said,” the sole is clammy. It has nature feet oil after a whole day in the shoes, you think you finished fag. Keep working on that.”
“Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”
His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son.
He dries himself but his throbbing cock continues to pulse as it grows harder because of his youth. The sensation intensifies. The feeling is wonderful. He can hear his cock throbbing in his ears.
“Once you plant that cock of yours in some squirmy hole and empty those warm balls of yours into a moist wet hole. Then you are on your way to becoming a man, and only then will you, come-of-age. But it is only a step onto the winding pathway towards manhood. It is my job to teach you what it means to be a man.” His father stands as he finishes his sentence. Loosening his belt and pulling his shirt out from the tucked confines of his pants.
“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.
“But you didn’t though, did you, son?”
“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.
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His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.
The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.
“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.
“Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis.
His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face.
He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.
“My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.”
“I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.”
He reaches and lets his hand glide over his swelled cock. Tickling the head of his bulbous cock with his rough fingertips which sends electric sparks through him and down to his toes.
“Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”
He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise.
“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.
“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.
“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.”
His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.
I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.
“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”
“Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?”
“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.”
He looks down. And then smiles at his dad.
“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.
“Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.”
“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”
“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.
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“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says.
His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.
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