Downward Facing Beetle

A fog rolls in over the arid desert plains of Namibia. The dense mist is possibly the only moisture this dune field will receive for days. A small black beetle emerges from its little home at the top of a sand dune. It squats down, lifts its shiny posterior to face the cool wind, and falls asleep. The next morning, just before sunrise, it wakes from its slumber and dumps the water it's collected down its body and into its mouth.
The Namid desert is one of the driest places on earth, too dry for any human to call home. But even here, nature has managed to beat us once again. The animal in question the Namibian Fog-Basking Beetle (we'll call her Misty for short), and despite its seemingly normal appearance, it's teaching us more about desert architecture than anyone could have imagined.

You see, the rear section of Misty's exoskeleton is covered with little bumps, which are hydrophilic (they like water). These are what helps her draw moisture from the air. The remaining shell is hydrophobic (dislikes water). This makes it so that all the moisture she collects beads up on top of the little bumps. Then, when she tilts to take a morning drink, the hydrophobic sections allow these now substantially sized water droplets to roll easily into her mouth. Thirst quenched, she can then get on with having nothing to do in the middle of the stupid desert.
"Well that's great," you might say. "But I'll just stick to tap water." But while aquifers meet the water needs of most desert cities, they are a non-renewable resource. I live in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where the vast majority of my water comes from large water deposits beneath the city. But there is already talk of the aquifers being stretched to their limit and fear of them being completely used up within my lifetime, so I know firsthand you don't have to be a beetle in Namibia to be concerned about desert water. It's a problem we must face immediately.
And that's where our good old friend architecture comes in. Inspired by Misty, architects all over the world are beginning to realize the potential of fog. A notable example is Grimshaw's plan for the Water Theatre in Las Palmas, Canary Islands. The theater will use a massive wall filled with hundreds of evaporators and condensers, coupled with a Seawater Greenhouse to create an entirely self-sufficient building. The Canary Islands are the perfect location for such a structure, with dense ocean fog common and a perpetual northeasterly wind. It creates pure drinking water for the theater's guests and supplies water to surrounding greenhouses and the city's water grid. Unlike traditional desalinization plants, the Theatre will recreate the natural water cycle, in which sunlight evaporates seawater, which then condenses and precipitates to the ground. The result: an infinite supply of fresh water and a brilliant backdrop for an open-air theater. (For more details, watch this)
And this is just the start. Plants like these will someday be built all over the world, helping to solve one of humanity's greatest problems. 

Another wet beetle

If you're thinking, "wait what about Blur," shut up. That is the opposite of using resources wisely because it makes fog.