From the dark clouds, several peacocks appear. Behind them a few more, and still a whole flock. They spread their wings wide, and sunlight reflects on them with amazing lights. The bluish necks of the birds arch in flight. Birds drag a golden chariot. Thin, like cobwebs, the reins confidently hold in their hands the winged goddess Irida. Immediately behind her, leaning on her baton, one more goddess is visible: tall, looks proud, the body of the goddess is covered with magnificent robes, and in her hair, a starry diadem, strict, dark and imperious eyes look at you. This is Hera, the heavenly queen, the wife of Zeus. At the moment, as usual, she carries out a morning promenade over the world, which, of course, considers it her property. But in reality, little happens at her request. Zeus often agreed with her, but not always, but rather in order to avoid a quarrel, to which Hera was very prone. When Zeus does not have enough patience, he rudely lets her feel who is in charge.