In Michael Morpurgo’s New Book, We Get To See Spring Through His Eyes

You likely read Michael Morpurgo’s books as a child; these works – War Horse, Kensuke’s Kingdom, Private Peaceful, to name but a few – introduce children to harder themes while rooting them firmly in awe of the natural world. His latest, Spring, is his first non-fiction book for adults in more than 40 years, and it intends to take us on a journey through the start of a new year’s cycle. Lucy Cleland walks through the burgeoning months with the iconic author to hear more.

Interview: Michael Morpurgo On New Book Spring & His Charity, Farms For City Children

We may be in the throes of a chilly January right now, but Michael Morpurgo’s new book immerses us – with each deliberate, delicious word (not one is wasted) – into that tantalising wait for spring, when nature begins to throw off her winter torpor. ‘We idolise spring, of course,’ he writes, ‘because we long for it so much during the dark, cold months of winter.’

Spring is Michael’s first non-fiction book for adults in over 40 years. It’s a short read – at 147 pages – and forms part of a series on the seasons commissioned by Hodder. Bernardine Evaristo will tackle summer, Kate Mosse, autumn, and Val McDermid, winter.

But to read Spring is to walk with Michael in his world, his beloved Devon, as though a companion, softly, humbly, respectfully. He is both a keen observer of nature, giving her a language that touches us all in its poetic simplicity, but also so much part of it.

Michael and Clare in 1976

His presence does not frighten away the otter in the Torridge River (as it didn’t Henry Williamson 100 years before him, who so meticulously captured the intricacies of the natural world in Tarka the Otter). Nor does he fail to spot and delight in the very first bluebell of the season. His agonising wait for the return of his beloved swallows is almost too painful to bear, until his wife Clare (whose presence is sprinkled throughout the pages) calls to him (us) and leads him (us) to the garage where finally, at last, two do swoop down over them. ‘I clapped quietly, almost silently, to welcome them, to celebrate their 8,000 mile journey, and their arrival, bringing spring with them,’ he writes. We clapped too.

Michael is, on occasion, unable to stop himself from wrangling with the nature of things. He knows he’s fed the birds too long because he so enjoys watching them through the window with his morning cup of tea. He knows not to move the frogspawn again to give the creatures more of a fighting chance out of sight of the murderous heron. He knows too that, despite the ebb and flow of the seasons, there is change afoot – he sees to it so acutely with every unfurling leaf – and reminds us humans how much we have meddled in that.

To speak to Michael and Clare, from their ‘paradise’ for the past 50 or so years, a two-up, two-down farm worker’s cottage, which used to house a family pig (not theirs), is also to enter their world, despite being down a computer line. It’s impossible not to visualise the mist he describes clinging to the hills and the mellow sunlight of late autumn filtering through the hedgerows (we speak in November). His voice is like treacle, still rich and warm in timbre, despite his 81 years.

Farms For City Children introduce kids to working farm life

For both, this corner of Devon is not just their home but where the work they seem to be most proud of has sprung from. Since 1976, they have been involved with the running of the charity they founded, Farms for City Children. In those intervening years, over 100,000 children have muddied clothes, fed lambs, heaved compost, become bone tired and ravenously hungry, as they spend a week on a proper working farm, offering them a glimpse into the rhythms of rural life. ‘We felt it was the right of a child to know there was this other world out there, which was their world too: a world of nature and wonder, a world that fed us, a world we all had to care about and care for,’ writes Michael.

It was Clare’s idea, originally, inspired by her childhood, when she first came to this part of Devon as a seven-year-old paying guest at a village pub (which belonged to friends of her parents). She revelled in the long hours of freedom roaming the countryside in her wellies. The couple wanted city children to feel that same connection – to experience a place abundant with life and purpose.

Michael can often be found in the garden

‘It wasn’t to be just about farming,’ Michael explains. ‘It was about nature, the environment, and teaching the children that they belong to a larger world.’ They received early encouragement from poet and neighbour Ted Hughes, who would sometimes read aloud to the children in the evening.

Michael writes about them throughout Spring, and you can almost hear their laughter rising from the pages, as they catch sight of him in his pyjamas busying himself in the garden, picking kale for a breakfast smoothie. ‘It was a joy to watch the children, who, like the saplings they were planting, also need nurturing and encouragement to grow well.’ You sense he feels that their thriving is viscerally linked to nature’s and they are just as important to this landscape for him as the blackbirds, buzzards and butterflies.

Unsurprisingly, books – and stories – shaped the upbringings of both Clare and Michael. Her father, Sir Allen Lane, was founder of Penguin Books, a revolutionary in his time, says Michael, for his desire to make books as affordable as possible.

Michael was similarly immersed. Brought up initially in Bradwell, Essex by his mother, an actor and stepfather, a history editor who happened to work for Penguin (he didn’t get to know his real father, also an actor, until he was much older), ‘we didn’t have walls in our house, we had bookshelves,’ he smiles. And his mother was also a prolific storyteller. ‘I loved being read stories at bedtime by my mum. That’s how I fell in love with them,’ he recalls.

And how many countless children (and adults) have since fallen in love with his stories (over 150 of them), which are unafraid to tackle tough themes: war, loss, resilience – always with the hope of sparking empathy. War Horse, now of course both a highly successful film and theatre production, is his most famous. His books are, explicitly, a safe filter through which to explore the sadness, violence and chaos of the real world, through imagination
and without harm, something that the ever-more omnipresent smartphone can’t do. ‘Books can introduce children to harsh realities without overwhelming them,’ he says. ‘They can imagine the world differently, and that’s where change begins.’

The Morpurgos are both vocal on how the challenges of our modern world, politically, socially and environmentally, mean that it’s more important than ever for children to have an introduction to – and an understanding of – how vital the countryside and nature is. ‘I hope our work becomes more relevant even than before,’ says Michael, ‘when in fact, I think people thought it was a bit nostalgic how we took children down to the farm, as though it were a bit old-fashioned. I think people now know it’s absolutely mission critical.’

That immersion in nature combined with igniting imagination, understanding and empathy through stories are the twin branches through which the Morpurgos really do help transform children’s lives. Every story, every project, and every child they meet is part of their lifelong passion to nurture curiosity and compassion.

Spring by Michael Morpurgo is a new book and will be published on 20 March (Hodder, £16.99). Farms for City Children is Country & Town House’s chosen charity partner for 2025. C&TH will be donating complimentary advertising throughout the year, as well as highlighting its work through events, editorial, social media, fundraising and volunteering. To find out more, visit farmsforcitychildren.org