A part of the ritual for the dead is the scattering of glass marbles on the grave.
Sometimes I'll find a marble that is perfect for making into a pendant, and I'll keep it aside to make a bird's eye.
.
It's a ritual I perform for, mostly, cockatoos. I do lose the occasional goldfish, and once in a while other birds such as galahs, and they are subject to the same burial ritual; here is a hole in the ground into which you are gently laid, then as the earth is placed over you I talk to you, recalling events from the time when our lives overlapped. Once this is done then marbles are placed on the grave.
It's all very simple, dignified, like a conversation with an old friend. Sometimes a tear is shed, sometimes not. Sometimes I will sing to them, sometimes not.
If a cockatoo dies in the garden then I leave it for half the day so that the other cockatoos can see that it is gone, and they can mourn it according to their custom. In the second half of the day the deceased becomes my responsibility, and is treated according to my custom; burial, and the brief ritual of the dead.
I take it as a great honour when the birds die in the garden - they have chosen not to be with their people, but to be with me, when the end came.
But by now I've probably said too much and you're shaking your head and saying "This guy really is weird...".
I treat the old cockatoos as friends, as welcome guests.
They're the ones who are sneaked extra treats when the other birds aren't looking. 
They are special, and they are treated so.
They represent the past and the present, in one. All that which has made this place possible has come through them.
It would not be right to treat them with anything but the respect which they are, naturally, due.
Birds for you. They are special.
in
and all in a row
Wow! and then Wow! and then Wow! again.
They are fantastic.
Thank you, Amber 
@ecar3483 wrote:It's a ritual I perform for, mostly, cockatoos. I do lose the occasional goldfish, and once in a while other birds such as galahs, and they are subject to the same burial ritual; here is a hole in the ground into which you are gently laid, then as the earth is placed over you I talk to you, recalling events from the time when our lives overlapped. Once this is done then marbles are placed on the grave.
It's all very simple, dignified, like a conversation with an old friend. Sometimes a tear is shed, sometimes not. Sometimes I will sing to them, sometimes not.
If a cockatoo dies in the garden then I leave it for half the day so that the other cockatoos can see that it is gone, and they can mourn it according to their custom. In the second half of the day the deceased becomes my responsibility, and is treated according to my custom; burial, and the brief ritual of the dead.
I take it as a great honour when the birds die in the garden - they have chosen not to be with their people, but to be with me, when the end came.
But by now I've probably said too much and you're shaking your head and saying "This guy really is weird...".
Not al all in fact I think I love you and your rituals.
No, it's a suburban back yard.They come because they come, they stay because find the company agreeable.
It's a good ritual, it's a good way to say goodbye to a friend.
