The Cloud Report is one crossing guard’s printed newsletter about “good trash and cute dogs”

Garnering viral attention on Instagram right now is artist, naturalist and crossing guard Christine Tyler Hill, who works in Burlington, Vermont – the main character of her mini-zine The Cloud Report. Having been a crossing guard in her neighbourhood for the past two years, this printed monthly newsletter shares observations from “the intersection and beyond”. From little glimmers of hope in everyday life, such as two kids singing as they walk hand in hand, or a plastic bag floating in the breeze (much like the brief moment of awe in American Beauty), Christine’s practice is rooting in witnessing daily occurrences take place in a literal intersection in life. “The world feels bleak most of the time, but every single morning at the intersection, I’m bowled over by beautiful moments,” says Christine. “A beautiful cloud, migrating geese in a V-formation overhead, a doe-eyed pitbull in a knitted sweater.”

These are just some of the things that manifest into the personality of The Cloud Report. They arrive alongside Instagram stories that document the colour of the sky and a tally of how many bus drivers have waved. After taking an online Risograph printing class at Outlet PDX over the pandemic and a residency at Directangle Press in New Hampshire a couple of years ago, Christine decided to put the practice to good use. The Cloud Report is a wholesome eight pages, printed in two colours on 67lb cream cardstock, saddle-stitched and sealed with three translucent stickers on the open sides then mailed with a proper stamp. “I didn’t want it to feel precious; I want it to be a direct mail piece, to feel like a newsletter that might come from a neighbourhood association or hiking club, so that’s why it’s mailed naked instead of in an envelope,” says Christine. “The whole project is about embracing the analog and physical, so I’m turning toward analog materials for The Cloud Report. I make illustrations and textures with watercolour, gauche, brush pens, pencils, block prints and stamps.”

Christine wants to celebrate the beauty of the mundane, especially in a town where snow ends up covering everything in a white-wash, but this is also part of the charm. A fire hydrant, a recycling bin, a mailbox with a nice patina, a funny hat. There’s nothing much to do on the job, so Christine focuses on turning boredom into a practice of seeing and capturing, much like a poet in nature or a documentarian in a small town. “The best part is the people. I love people and what they wear. I love the weird behaviors they exhibit. I wonder about their interior worlds,” says Christine. “When I was reporting from the intersection via Instagram stories, I couldn’t capture people very easily because I’m not a psycho who points my phone camera at strangers. It’s fun to draw some of the characters I encounter.”

The Cloud Report focuses on the micro over the macro; how granular and fleeting perfect moments can be and how communities form. Life feels more manageable when you know some of your neighbours, can identify trees on your street, when you see a dog in knit-wear. After all, Christine says that the newsletter is about “good trash and cute dogs”, but most importantly, it’s about paying close attention. It’s hard to walk away from The Cloud Report not feeling inspired to do the same.