During those, if there is no wind and only golden sun from the east, things are lit up and sometimes ‘goldenized’. Then, this old favorite by Wordsworth from gr. 12 (’67), comes to mind….
Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, Sept. 3, 1802
Earth has not anything to show so fair:
Dull would be he of soul who could pass by
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare.
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!